


Providence

by fallintosanity (yopumpkinhead)



Series: Calamity's Waltz [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 97,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22140655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yopumpkinhead/pseuds/fallintosanity
Summary: Cloud is settling into his new life in the past, as a First Class SOLDIER for ShinRa. But when a mysterious, deadly warrior named Noctis Lucis Caelum turns up in the wilds of the western continent, Cloud and his friends find they have a new puzzle on their hands. Noctis and his strange abilities aren't the only mystery, though: dark forces have begun to stir within the Lifestream, and some of Cloud's worst nightmares are about to come true...
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Calamity's Waltz [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930918
Comments: 1378
Kudos: 1048





	1. Recruiting Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Fifth Act](https://archiveofourown.org/works/362128) by [Sinnatious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnatious/pseuds/Sinnatious). 



> This is a fanfic of a fanfic, and assumes you have read Sinnatious's incredible [The Fifth Act](https://archiveofourown.org/works/362128/chapters/587564) first. If you haven't and don't want to, skip to the Chapter 1 end notes for a brief summary of the key points. Also, this fic uses "Aeris" instead of "Aerith" since that's what TFA uses. 
> 
> I typically update on weekends, alternating between this fic and my other FFXV fic, [What Stays and What Fades](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22137976). 
> 
> Comments and feedback are always welcome. If you want to chat, I'm on Tumblr as fallintosanity!

“A recruiting mission?” Genesis said doubtfully. He held the mission briefing in two fingers, his nose wrinkled like the words written on it reeked. “I thought this was going to be something interesting.” 

Tseng ignored him, leaning back in his desk chair ever so slightly and watching Cloud with narrowed eyes. Cloud returned his stare impassively. He hadn’t looked at the mission briefing yet, and Tseng seemed far more interested in his reaction than Genesis’s. He dropped his eyes deliberately to Cloud’s copy of the briefing. “What do you think, Commander Strife?” 

Giving in, Cloud skimmed the report. _Unknown fighter operating on the Western Continent… mercenary… known kills include multiple Bomb clusters, several cokatolis, two zuus, a nest of Nibel dragons… no known affiliations…_ Cloud looked back at Tseng with a frown. “Who is he?” 

“We were hoping you might know,” Tseng said. “He’s been roaming the Western Continent, slaying monsters in exchange for room, board, or gil. Remarkably similar to what you were doing before we recruited you.” 

“Does this mystery man have it in for Sephiroth, too?” Genesis asked dryly. 

“Not that we know of,” Tseng said, though he was still watching Cloud. “The civilians who’ve spoken with him noted a complete indifference toward ShinRa, actually.”

“And you want to recruit him?” Genesis said.

“You want _us_ to recruit him?” Cloud added. 

“A warrior powerful enough to take on the monsters he’s faced, alone, is of great interest to ShinRa. It would be best for all parties if he joined SOLDIER,” Tseng said, then nodded to Genesis. “Lazard suggested bringing the Hero of Wutai as incentive.” Then he tilted his head toward Cloud. “Even if you don’t know this man, your own, ah, recruitment experience might be of interest to him.” 

“I don’t know him,” Cloud said. The photo attached to the briefing was blurry, pulled from a security photo according to the notes, and all he could make out of the mystery man was pale skin and dark hair. But he didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know he wasn’t anyone Cloud knew - the only people Cloud knew with that coloring were either already accounted for, or out of reach.

Tseng frowned. “You’re sure? His circumstances are quite similar to yours—”

“No,” Cloud interrupted. “They’re not.” They couldn’t be, but Tseng didn’t know that. Tseng had no idea Cloud was a time-traveler from ten years in the future, and Cloud wasn’t about to enlighten him. Only a handful of people knew the truth, the ones who’d been with Cloud at Nibelheim three months ago: Sephiroth, Genesis, Angeal, Kunsel, Zack, and Vincent. Everyone else in ShinRa had gotten an edited version of the incident in Nibelheim which contained no mentions of time travel, and as little of Jenova as Sephiroth had thought they could get away with. Even Aeris didn’t know everything, as much for her own protection as Cloud’s. 

There was no way this guy was another time-traveler from the future, which meant he was nothing like Cloud. Though, that did leave a question open. “How long has he been operating?” Cloud asked. “Why are you only just now going after him?” 

“Four months, give or take,” Tseng answered. “We have some speculative reports that he may have been operating up to six months ago, but we can’t definitively link them. He’s been using aliases, and not all of the people who reported activity saw him in person.” 

“‘First confirmed sighting in North Corel’,” Genesis read from the briefing. 

Tseng nodded. “The speculative reports are from a handful of small settlements in the mountains to the west of North Corel. If those were the same man, he moved more or less steadily east from Mount Nibel to Corel for about two months, then swung south along the mountains. He’s currently just west of the Corel Desert, in a settlement near the river.” 

Cloud had to fight not to react to the mention of Mount Nibel. Based on Tseng’s timeline, the mystery man would have been in the area of the Nibel reactor during the time Cloud was trapped in Hojo’s lab, but that had to be a coincidence. Cloud had spent close to eight months there; dozens if not hundreds of people had probably passed through the greater Nibel area in that time. This guy was just one of them.

Tseng was still watching him a little too closely, so Cloud made himself toss the mission briefing on Tseng’s desk with as much nonchalance as he could muster. “The Corel Desert, huh? When do we leave?” 

“Tomorrow morning at oh eight hundred,” Tseng said, and began gathering up the papers Cloud had scattered. “I’ll see both of you at the helipad at ten til.” 

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time Tseng landed the helicopter just outside a small village some sixty or seventy miles west of the edge of the Corel Desert. Following the locals’ directions, Cloud, Genesis, and Tseng walked along a hilly trail to the river. It was a pleasant day, the sun warm, the breeze gentle, and birds chirping in the trees and bushes. This far west, no trace of Midgar’s smog marred the air, and Cloud tipped his face up, reveling in the sunlight. 

“Is that him?” Genesis asked quietly, breaking his reverie.

“Apparently,” Tseng said. 

Cloud followed their gaze. Perhaps a hundred yards along the path, the rolling hills sloped down to meet the river where it wound lazily down from the foothills of the mountains to the west. A lone figure sat at the river’s edge, a sleek fishing pole in his hands, the line extended out into the water. He turned as they approached, and Cloud studied him closely, just in case Tseng had been right about a connection. 

But the young man wasn’t familiar at all. He looked young, early twenties or so, certainly not like a warrior capable of the kinds of exploits described in ShinRa’s file. His skin was paler than one would expect for someone who spent his time wandering the continent, and his hair was jet-black and fell in messy locks and spikes around his head. His face was round, almost soft, and his eyes, framed by thick dark lashes, were a stormy blue-gray and wide with curiosity. 

His clothes were as unfamiliar as his face: a t-shirt under a short-sleeved leather jacket, baggy fisherman’s pants, and mismatched boots, all black. The fishing pole he held was likewise black, and looked fancy, though Cloud knew nothing about fishing. The young man rose to his feet, reeling in the line absently, as Tseng walked up to him with Cloud and Genesis following behind. 

“Can I help you?” the man asked. His voice was light, almost soft despite the wary edge. 

Tseng flashed a polite smile and his ShinRa ID. “My name is Tseng. I’m a member of ShinRa’s General Affairs Department.” Using the department’s formal name, not the nickname _Turks_ , Cloud noted - apparently Tseng didn’t want to spook the guy. “These are Commanders Rhapsodos and Strife, SOLDIERs First Class,” Tseng continued, gesturing to Genesis and Cloud in turn. 

The man glanced over at Genesis and Cloud, then back to Tseng. That was odd - Cloud tried to keep a low profile as a SOLDIER First Class, but Genesis revelled in attention and publicity. His face was nearly as well-known as Sephiroth’s; the man should have recognized him. But all he said to Tseng was, “Soldiers? Is something wrong? Do I need a hunter’s license or something?” 

“No,” Tseng said smoothly. “We wanted to talk to you, Mr…?”

“Gar,” the man said.

Tseng’s expression didn’t change from the polite smile. “That’s the fifth alias you’ve used in the last four months.” 

The man’s expression hardened, his chin lifting and those startling stormcloud eyes narrowing. Tseng continued, “ShinRa has been following your activity for some time, and we’re quite interested in you.”

“I see that,” the man said dryly. 

“Your name?” Tseng prompted. 

The man’s head tilted as he studied them for a long moment; Cloud had the impression he was weighing a decision. Finally he said, “Noctis Lucis Caelum.” His gaze flicked over them as he spoke, as though he was expecting a reaction of some kind. 

Not that Cloud had one; the name was unusual, but not extraordinary. It didn’t appear to ring a bell for Genesis or Tseng, either, and after a moment, the man’s - Caelum’s - shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Some of the wariness in his posture bled away with the motion, and suddenly he just looked tired. “What do you want?” he asked. 

“We’d like to offer you a job, Mister Caelum,” Tseng said. “Your track record of monster-hunting is impressive, and ShinRa’s SOLDIER division could use men of your skill.” 

“A job?” Caelum repeated, the wariness coming back abruptly. His eyes darted to Cloud and Genesis, then back to Tseng. “As a SOLDIER?”

Tseng nodded. “It’s an excellent opportunity. SOLDIER is well regarded, and quite difficult to get into. Fewer than twenty are accepted out of the hundreds who apply every year. You’ll be paid generously - ShinRa takes excellent care of its SOLDIERs." It was more or less the same spiel Tseng had given Cloud a year and a half ago, when he’d been trying to recruit him. He must have it memorized. Tseng tapped the pocket of his suit. “I have some leaflets which go into further detail, if you’d like.”

Caelum shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m not interested.” He swung his fishing pole up on his shoulder and brushed past Tseng, heading back up the path toward the village, the set of his shoulders declaring his unwillingness to speak further. 

Genesis took half a step after him, drawing breath to call out, but Tseng held up a hand to stop him. “Let him go,” he said quietly. 

“Hmph.” Genesis folded his arms. “He didn’t even listen to you. Who in their right mind would turn down an invitation to join SOLDIER? Not just to apply, but to _join?!_ ” 

The corner of Tseng’s mouth turned up, very slightly, as he looked at Cloud. Cloud ignored him and said to Genesis, “You’re just mad he didn’t recognize you.”

“That, too,” Genesis agreed easily. To Tseng he added, “You’re not giving up that easily, are you?” 

“Of course not,” Tseng answered. Caelum was out of sight along the path by now, lost to the gentle curve and swell of the hills, but Tseng lowered his voice anyway. “A flock of harpies was spotted two days ago heading toward this area. Normally Director Lazard would have sent a squad of Thirds to clear them out, but he agreed to hold off. We’d like to see Mister Caelum in action.” 

“Is that safe?” Cloud asked. “Letting them get this close to town?” 

“It’s perfectly safe,” Tseng said, and smiled. “Aren’t you both SOLDIERs?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick summary of _The Fifth Act_ ( **SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY** ): An accident with a Time material sends Cloud twelve years back in time, to the start of the Wutai War shortly before Genesis Rhapsodos's desertion. Not knowing how to return to his own time, Cloud decides to make the most of the situation and sets out to kill Hojo, Jenova, and Sephiroth before any of the terrible things in his own timeline can come to pass. The first person he runs into is Genesis Rhapsodos, and after battling him, Cloud more-or-less accidentally cures his degradation, which keeps Genesis from deserting ShinRa. Cloud joins SOLDIER to get access to Sephiroth and Hojo, befriending Second Class SOLDIER Kunsel, a young Zack Fair, and Aeris Gainsborough along the way. He also meets his own younger self, who picks up the nickname Spike to distinguish him from Cloud, and learns that he's one of President ShinRa's many bastard children. Cloud is not able to stop Angeal Hewley's degradation from kicking in, though, and Angeal - knowing Cloud is mako-augmented at a level with Sephiroth - conspires with Hollander to kidnap Cloud in the hope of finding a cure for degradation. 
> 
> But Hojo interferes, stealing Cloud for himself. Hojo realizes that Cloud is a time-traveler, and uses him to begin testing his own time-travel device even as the other SOLDIERs search for him (and for Angeal, who vanished when Hollander's attempts to find a cure went nowhere). Kunsel manages to locate Cloud, only to be likewise imprisoned by Hojo. Cloud helps Kunsel escape, though, and Kunsel teams up with Cloud's past self to get back to Midgar and the other SOLDIERs. The team mounts a rescue mission, during which Sephiroth learns the truth about his origins but, with his friends to support him, doesn't go mad; Vincent kills Hojo; and Jenova tries to awaken Cloud as her chosen son instead of Sephiroth. Cloud manages to overcome Jenova's influence with Aeris's help, and the SOLDIERs incinerate her body and the mansion full of Hojo's research. They also find Angeal, and with Aeris's newly-awakened Great Gospel, cure him of degradation as well. With Jenova and Hojo dead and no longer able to influence Sephiroth, and knowing Sephiroth is surrounded by people who can and will stop him if he does start to go off the deep end, Cloud agrees not to kill Sephiroth. Instead, he remains with SOLDIER, surrounded by new friends and working to stop the other, smaller tragedies he knows are coming, and ensure a better future for his old friends.


	2. Noctis Joins SOLDIER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis makes a grim pun and even Genesis's spine is dramatic.

The village was too small to have a proper inn, so Tseng had rented rooms in a large farmstead for the three of them to stay the night while they waited for the arrival of the harpy flock. When Cloud came downstairs the next morning, he found Tseng sitting at the kitchen table scrolling through his PHS. The family who lived in the house was nowhere to be seen, but a generous breakfast spread covered the table. Cloud grunted a greeting which Tseng was apparently too distracted to return, and helped himself to the pancakes stacked on a plate in the middle of the table. 

He’d made it through an entire helping and was starting on a second when Genesis arrived in a sweep of red leather and morning grouchiness. “When do those harpies get here?” Genesis grumbled as he reached for the coffee. “That bed was meant for children. I could use a good fight to stretch out.” He punctuated the comment by leaning over the back of his chair, drawing several loud pops from his spine.

Tseng didn’t look up from his PHS. “Apparently Mister Caelum killed the whole flock already.”

“What?!” Genesis yelped. “When?” 

“Last night,” Tseng said. “My agent who’d been monitoring the flock spotted Caelum heading toward them shortly after midnight. She had to hang back to avoid being seen, and by the time she caught up to Caelum, he’d already wiped out the flock.”

Cloud frowned. “How long was he out of her sight?”

“She swears no more than three minutes,” Tseng said. 

“He’d have to be _very_ skilled to take out a flock of harpies alone in less than three minutes,” Genesis said.

“Magic may have been involved,” Tseng said. “My agent reported that the ground around the harpies’ nest was scorched.”

“He didn’t have any materia on him, though,” Genesis pointed out.

“He could’ve had it stashed somewhere,” Cloud suggested. “Picked it up before going after them.” 

Genesis scoffed. “If you had a fire materia powerful enough to wipe out an entire flock of harpies that quickly, you wouldn’t let it out of your sight.” 

“It’s a valid point,” Tseng said, looking up from his PHS for the first time. “My agent said he was unarmed both on his way to the nest and after. He’s never been seen carrying either a weapon or materia of any kind. One of the unconfirmed reports from five months ago included a description of something similar to a Buster-style sword, but considering the civilian who made the report described the sword as ‘bigger than the guy wielding it’, we don’t put much stock in it.”

“It’s not _that_ far-fetched,” Genesis said. “First Tsurugi is nearly as big as Cloud is—Ow!” 

Cloud resumed eating his pancakes while Genesis glared at him and rubbed the shin Cloud had kicked. “It’s true,” Genesis said waspishly. “I still don’t know why you prefer such an… _ungainly_ weapon. Angeal at least has the sheer brawn required for it, but you’d do much better with a lighter sword.”

“Like yours,” Cloud said, amused.

“Exactly!” Genesis agreed, and touched the grip of his rapier in its sheath on his back. “An _elegant_ weapon for a hero with finesse.” 

“Right,” Cloud said dryly. To Tseng, he added, “So what now?”

Tseng sighed, snapped his PHS closed, and dropped it in a pocket. “We go back, I suppose.”

Cloud narrowed his eyes. “You’re not giving up that easily.”

“Hardly,” Tseng agreed. “But Caelum made clear yesterday that he isn’t interested in listening to us. And his choice to go to the harpy nest in the dead of night, instead of waiting for them to come here, suggests he’s aware of our surveillance and unwilling to allow us to observe him in any significant capacity. Therefore, an alternate approach is needed.”

“Like what?” Genesis asked.

“I have some ideas in mind,” Tseng said. “A softer approach, perhaps.” His PHS beeped and he dug it back out with an annoyed frown. “I need to take care of this first. I’ll meet the two of you at the helicopter at fourteen hundred.” He pushed to his feet and headed out of the farmhouse, PHS pressed to his ear.

“Lovely,” Genesis muttered. “Five hours of hanging around a backwater so dull its main form of entertainment is betting on whose crops will sprout first.”

“You could always go sign some autographs,” Cloud suggested, only half teasing. Genesis _loved_ spending time with fans. 

But to his surprise, Genesis shook his head, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dramatic stage whisper. “Haven’t you noticed? The people in this village don’t like ShinRa very much.” 

Cloud blinked. He hadn’t noticed, actually, but then he was used to people giving him a wide berth. Back home, after Meteor, it had been normal - a side effect of his mako eyes. But Genesis was used to the adulation that came with being a SOLDIER First Class and the Hero of Wutai. Being shunned was probably like a slap in the face to him. 

Genesis sighed. “I suppose I’ll go take a nap in the helicopter,” he said. “It’s not as though I got any sleep last night, in that tiny bed.” He rose from his chair and stretched again, his spine obligingly generating more cracks and pops, then stalked toward the door. Halfway out, he paused and turned back to Cloud. “What about you? Aren’t you coming?” 

Cloud hesitated, debating whether to tell Genesis what he was planning, but he didn’t want him coming along and if he told, Genesis would insist on it. So all he said was, “Maybe in a bit.”

Genesis looked between Cloud and the half-eaten stack of pancakes on his plate, apparently completely misinterpreting Cloud’s intentions. “You’ll be able to eat when we get back home,” he pointed out. “You don’t have to torment yourself with this backwater slop.”

“And you wonder why the people here don’t like us,” Cloud muttered. Whoever had cooked their breakfast wasn’t in sight, but it was still rude. He waved his fork at Genesis. “I’ll see you in a while.” 

“If you like,” Genesis sniffed, and stalked out. 

Cloud finished his pancakes slowly, mostly to give Genesis time to get bored loitering outside the farmhouse hoping Cloud would change his mind, and go to the helicopter like he’d said. When Cloud thought it was safe, he slipped out of the house and found the little trail that led to the river. 

As he’d expected, Noctis Lucis Caelum sat by the water’s edge once again, fishing pole in hand and a line stretched into the water. Caelum looked up when Cloud approached, then glanced around for the others, but when he saw Cloud was alone, he turned back to the water without saying anything. Cloud sat down a few feet away, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head back to feel the sun on his skin. 

He couldn’t blame Caelum for turning Tseng down so abruptly yesterday. Cloud hadn’t exactly been gung-ho about joining ShinRa himself, and the only reason he’d done it in the end was to get closer to his goal of killing Hojo, Jenova, and Sephiroth. With Hojo dead, Jenova burned to ash, and Sephiroth staying firmly on the side of humanity with all his friends to support him, Cloud could have left. But sometime over the nearly two years he’d spent in the past, they’d become _his_ friends, as well. Plus, someone needed to make sure ShinRa turned itself around before it killed the Planet with its reactors. 

Cloud might not know Caelum’s story, but he knew what it was like to roam the world alone. And he couldn’t help but be curious about the guy. A warrior as strong as he apparently was didn’t just appear from thin air. Cloud hadn’t heard about him in the future, either, which struck him as odd. Granted, there was most of a decade between now and then for something to happen to Caelum, for him to die in any one of the major disasters that had befallen the Planet over the years, or even die an ignoble death in a backwoods village somewhere when he bit off a bigger mission than he could chew. But it was still strange. 

Fifteen or so minutes after Cloud had sat down, it was becoming clear Caelum wasn’t going to say anything. Cloud spent another ten minutes trying to figure out what to say; talking, especially to strangers, wasn’t exactly his forte. Finally he ventured, “Nice work with those harpies last night.” 

Caelum jumped so hard he almost dropped his fishing pole, and spun to face Cloud with wide, startled eyes. Cloud held up a hand, trying to look harmless. They’d been sitting in silence, sure, but that was a hell of an overreaction. “Sorry,” Cloud said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Caelum stared at him for another second or two, then relaxed slightly. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t, uh. I didn’t realize you—” 

He bit off whatever he was about to say so hard Cloud heard his teeth click together. Curious now, Cloud said, “Didn’t realize what?” 

“Nothing,” Caelum said quickly, looking away, a blush rising over his pale skin. 

“Realize what?” Cloud repeated, in the tone he used whe Denzel or Marlene had been trying to hide something. 

Caelum winced, then said reluctantly, “That you can talk.” 

Cloud’s eyebrows shot up. “Why wouldn’t I be able to talk?” 

“Uh…” Caelum looked down, rubbing the back of his head in obvious embarrassment. Cloud waited again, and finally Caelum admitted, “Everyone I’ve talked to said SOLDIERs are monsters manufactured by ShinRa. I thought…” He hesitated again, his voice trailing off to a mumble that even Cloud’s mako-enhanced hearing had trouble making out: “I thought you were empty.” 

At least that explained why Caelum had refused Tseng’s offer. Cloud sat up straight, turning to face Caelum, letting him get a good look. “SOLDIERs aren’t monsters,” he said. “We’re people, just like you.”

“Your eyes are glowing,” Caelum pointed out. 

“Mako eyes,” Cloud said, and sighed. His eyes no longer glowed as brightly as they had immediately after escaping Hojo’s clutches, but in a dim room it was still obvious they were much more intense than other SOLDIERs’. Caelum looked confused by his words, so Cloud asked, “These people you talked to, they say how ShinRa makes SOLDIERs?”

Caelum shook his head. Cloud explained, “They inject you with mako.” _And Jenova cells,_ he didn’t add. With Jenova gone, he wasn’t certain what, if anything, they were using in her place. “It makes you stronger, faster, tougher. You heal more quickly.”

“And your eyes glow,” Caelum said dryly. 

Cloud couldn’t help smiling a little. “And your eyes glow,” he agreed. “But that’s it. We’re not monsters.” 

He was painfully aware of the irony in his words. A year and a half ago, he’d told his younger self to stay away from SOLDIER because it was a den of monsters. Now he was… if not actively trying to convince Caelum to join, at least denying the monster part. 

But then, a year and a half ago he hadn’t been friends with any of them. Now Hojo was dead and the Science Department was under new management and much closer scrutiny. Genesis and Angeal hadn’t succumbed to degradation and madness, and Sephiroth had chosen humanity over Jenova. The company as a whole might have a long way to go yet, especially with President ShinRa, Rufus, and Scarlet still around, but Cloud couldn’t honestly say that SOLDIER was nothing but a den of monsters anymore. 

Caelum studied him for a moment. Young as he looked, there was something old about his eyes, the same sort of weariness Cloud used to see in Tifa’s, and in Aeris’s in his own time. He might not have turned up on ShinRa’s radar until recently, but it was clear he’d been fighting for a long time. Not unlike Cloud. 

Carefully, Cloud said, “You got family somewhere?”

Caelum looked away, his hair falling around his face like a shield. “I… no. Not…” He blew out a harsh sigh. “They’re gone.” Cloud waited, and after a minute or two, Caelum continued reluctantly, “I had to… leave them behind. But now I can't get back to them.”

That sounded unnervingly like how Cloud had left his own friends behind when he came to the past, though Caelum seemed to have done it deliberately. Cloud thought about Tseng’s suggestion that Caelum was like Cloud - but that was impossible, wasn't it? What were the odds that someone else would travel through time to this era? Cloud shook his head, banishing the thought. 

“What?” Caelum said.

“Nothing,” Cloud said. “Just… I know what it’s like to… to lose everyone.”

Caelum’s hand clenched into a fist at his side, the leather of his gauntlet creaking. “I can’t think like that,” he said. “They’re still alive - they have to be. I just… have to find them.” 

The pain in his voice was all too familiar to Cloud, so he didn’t press further. He only said, “That job offer’s still on the table, if you want it. You’ll have access to ShinRa’s resources - they might be able to help you find your family.”

Caelum looked up at him, a frown furrowing his brow. “But I’d have to do that mako thing.”

“Maybe,” Cloud said. “If you’re nervous about the injections, you can talk to the Science Department first. See what the process is for yourself before you agree to anything. If you can keep up as a SOLDIER without them, you might even be able to put something in your contract about not getting the injections.”

“You think they’ll let me?” Caelum asked. “I heard they’re not the negotiating type.”

 _Probably from the same people who told you we’re monsters_ , Cloud thought, but all he said was, “They made concessions on my contract when I joined, for the same reason they’ll probably do it for you - they’d rather have us where they can see us.” 

Caelum snorted. “That’s all this is, huh? Keep the weirdo where you can see him?” 

“ShinRa didn’t get to be as powerful as it is by being stupid,” Cloud admitted. “If you don’t take the offer, they’re going to keep watching you to make sure you’re not a threat.” 

“Watching,” Caelum repeated, in a tone that suggested he’d picked up on the part Cloud wasn’t saying - that eventually _watching_ wouldn’t be enough, and ShinRa would try a more forceful tactic to exert control. 

Cloud shrugged. “Look at it this way. It’s a place to sleep, three meals a day, a decent paycheck. Better than scraping a living by taking odd monster-slaying missions around the Western Continent. And you’d have help finding your family.” 

Caelum made a reluctant sound of agreement. “When you put it that way, it’d be stupid not to, huh?” 

Cloud rolled to his feet and held a hand out to Caelum. “Let’s go talk to Tseng.” 

* * *

Tseng accepted Caelum’s change of heart with polite excitement, and readily agreed to Caelum’s stipulations regarding the mako injections. Whatever crisis he’d been dealing with was apparently less important than getting Caelum to ShinRa, because he suggested they leave for Midgar immediately. It wasn’t until they were climbing into the helicopter, and Tseng gave Cloud a satisfied nod, that Cloud realized what had happened. 

_A softer approach,_ Tseng had said at breakfast. 

Cloud sighed. Well, Turks would be Turks. Caelum had agreed to come with them to Midgar, which was the important thing. As far as Turk manipulations went, Cloud could tolerate this one.


	3. SOLDIER's Latest Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis doesn't get mako eyes, and Sephiroth tells Cloud something important.

A week later, Cloud was curled on a couch in the First Class break room in ShinRa HQ in Midgar, dozing against Kunsel’s shoulder. In the months since Nibelheim, he’d discovered that using Kunsel as a pillow was the best way to get some sleep, nightmare-free. Kunsel had been there with him in this timeline’s Nibelheim; Kunsel knew what had happened in the lab. His presence was comforting, like the memory of Zack Fair, the one Cloud had known in his own timeline. But that Zack didn’t exist in this timeline and the Zack which did, didn’t understand. He tried, but this was a Zack who hadn’t had his innocence ripped away by Hojo and Hollander, by Genesis and Angeal and Sephiroth. He _couldn’t_ understand, not really. 

Kunsel could. Kunsel had been there and lived it, and had been the closest thing to _safety_ Cloud had had during his second stint in Hojo’s hands. Cloud worried sometimes that he was annoying Kunsel by falling asleep on him, but Kunsel never complained. In fact, he had started spending more time on the break room couch, as if inviting Cloud to rest. Much to the amusement of both of them, Genesis had likewise taken to hanging out there more often, but only when Cloud was around. At least Genesis tended to be quiet, reading _Loveless_ for the umpteenth time or working on the paperwork that came with being a SOLDIER commander. Unlike— 

“Kunsel, buddy!” Zack Fair called as he barged into the room. 

Unlike Zack. Cloud sighed and blinked his eyes open, stretching lazily. Behind him, Kunsel shook his head in annoyance; Genesis, sitting in the chair next to the couch, rolled his eyes. Zack skidded to a halt and rubbed the back of his neck, looking abashed. “Oops. Sorry, Cloud. Didn't realize you were sleeping.”

Cloud shrugged. That was apparently enough for Zack, because he dropped onto the end of the couch, barely missing Cloud's feet. “So they let your mystery man join SOLDIER as a Third Class,” he said without preamble. “He was in my morning swordfighting class with all the other baby SOLDIERs.”

“You're seventeen,” Genesis said. 

“And I’m First Class and they just became Thirds,” Zack retorted. “Babies.”

Cloud snorted. “Don't let them hear you call them that.”

Zack flapped a hand dismissively. “Anyway, Noctis joined this morning. He did his test match against one of the Seconds a few days ago and aced it - Angeal told me last night that Noctis wasn’t even out of breath after.”

“Sounds like Cloud,” Kunsel said with a fond grin. Cloud couldn’t help a small smile of his own, remembering his first match against Kunsel and how impressed Kunsel had been afterward.

“Well, except Noctis didn’t use materia and doesn’t have his own sword,” Zack said.

“Wait, really?” Genesis asked, frowning. “Then what did he use to take out that harpy flock?”

Zack shrugged. “No idea. Maybe he has his own gear but doesn’t want to use it?”

Cloud traded a glance with Genesis, but Genesis didn’t look like he had any more answers than Cloud did. Then something occurred to Cloud, and he said to Zack, “So he got the SOLDIER mako treatments after all? He was pretty skeptical about them when I talked to him.” 

To his surprise, Zack shook his head. “He doesn't have mako eyes. I guess they think he’ll be able to keep up without getting the normal mako treatments.”

“Actually, I heard he did get the treatments,” Kunsel cut in. Cloud blinked in surprise, tilting his head back to look upside-down at him; Kunsel shrugged the shoulder Cloud wasn't leaning on. “I know a guy who works on the treatment team. He was there. He said Noctis asked questions for hours, stuff like what mako is, where it comes from, what it does to you. They even let him look at the tanks.” 

With his head on Kunsel's shoulder, Cloud felt the shiver that ran through him at the mention of mako tanks, an echo of Cloud’s own shudder. They'd both spent too much time on the inside of mako tanks back in Hojo’s lab. But Kunsel recovered and kept talking: “Apparently he just stood next to one for a while with his hand on the glass. Viren said it was a little creepy. But eventually he agreed to it.”

Zack frowned. “So are they going to do it later then, or what? His eyes aren't glowing yet.”

“That's the weird thing,” Kunsel said. “Noctis got the treatment. He got it _twice_.”

“Twice?” Genesis echoed, brow rising.

Kunsel nodded. “According to Viren, they gave him the treatment and put him in a recovery room to ride it out. Normal procedure. But he just woke up from the anaesthetic and tried to leave, and like you said his eyes didn't glow, so everyone thought there’d been a mix-up and he’d gotten skipped somehow. He swore up and down they did everything correctly and it just wasn't hitting him very hard, but nobody believed him.”

“Of course not,” Genesis said. “Even the best SOLDIER candidates need days to recover from the treatments. And that much exposure to mako is guaranteed to make your eyes glow.”

“Exactly,” Kunsel agreed. “So they made him do it again, with half the department monitoring the procedure. Same thing. He woke up from the anaesthesia and was fine. Walked right out.”

“That's impossible,” Zack blurted. 

“Didn’t they examine him?” Genesis demanded. “I can’t imagine the Science Department would just let him walk out after all that. What did they find out?” 

But Kunsel shook his head. “He wouldn’t let them. He has the same no-doctors contract language as Cloud.”

“If they made him get the treatment twice, I can see why he’d be annoyed,” Zack said. “But still! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“None,” Kunsel said. He nudged Cloud with an elbow. “You talked to this guy. What do you think?” 

Cloud shook his head. He had no idea, really. “Seemed normal enough.” 

“Other than taking out a flock of harpies in less than three minutes,” Genesis pointed out. “I still want to know how he did that, especially if he doesn’t have weapons or materia.” 

“Sephiroth could do it,” Zack said. “He could probably do it in less than a minute. So could Cloud.” 

“Maybe,” Cloud said. “But not without any gear. Also, harpies fly. Even with gear, you have to chase them. It’s not hard, just time-consuming.” 

“Well,” Genesis said dryly, “unless Noctis is secretly a mako mutant with hidden wings, he can’t fly. So he must be very fast, or have an insanely powerful fire materia hiding somewhere.” 

“Or both,” Zack said. He thumped Cloud in the leg. “You’ll find out soon enough. You’ll have him in your materia class in a couple days.” 

Cloud grunted agreement. A month or so ago, Genesis had managed to convince Director Lazard to foist the beginners’ materia class off onto Cloud, ostensibly so Genesis could devote more time to the senior classes as well as his own missions. In reality, Cloud suspected it was just so that he and Genesis had something which none of the other Firsts shared. Genesis could be… _clingy_ , sometimes, about the man who’d saved him from degradation. 

Still, Cloud didn’t mind teaching the class. He’d enjoyed the unofficial lessons he’d given Zack and Kunsel prior to the Nibelheim incident, and spending time with new recruits gave him the opportunity to guide their view of SOLDIER, and by extension, ShinRa. Now he’d have a chance to observe Noctis Lucis Caelum in action, too. 

“You’ll have to tell us how it goes,” Zack said.

“Indeed,” Genesis agreed. “It’s been months since we’ve had a good mystery. I was starting to get bored.” 

* * *

_immersed in mako, green poison choking him_

_strapped to a table, needles sliding into his arms and scalpels slicing into his skin_

_he failed, someone says, make him do it again. and he’s plunging back into the tanks, his skin burning, his lungs seizing as mako closes over his head_

_men in lab coats standing over him, holding clipboards and taking notes, ignoring his pleas for help, for release, for an end to the agony_

_please don’t make me do this again please_

_an electric whine in his ears, rising to a shriek. a flash of white. jump_

_nausea, pain rattling his bones, falling to the floor_

_failure, hojo says, cackling. his eyes aren’t glowing. make him do it again._

_please don’t make me do this again_

_an electric whine in his ears, rising to a shriek. a flash of white. jump_

_nausea, pain rattling his bones, falling to the floor_

_failure, hojo says, cackling. his eyes aren’t glowing. make him do it again._

_please don’t_

_an electric whine in his ears, rising to a shriek. a flash of white. jump_

_nausea, pain rattling his bones, falling to the floor_

_failure, hojo says, cackling. his eyes aren’t glowing. make him—_

_please_

_plunging into the tanks again and that’s no relief, it’s worse_

_no please stop it please_

_Zack floating in the other tank, hands pressed against the glass, his mouth forming words: Cloud, hold on, please hold on, Cloud, c’mon, Cloud—_

“Cloud, wake up.”

He snapped awake, adrenaline and terror pounding through him. Saw pale skin, silver hair, glowing green eyes above him, and reacted without thinking, flailing free of the blankets and scrambling away. But the bunk was narrow and he banged into the wall, trapped, eyes darting around for his sword, for any weapon— 

“ _Cloud_ ,” Sephiroth said again, sharper. “Calm down.”

The words didn't make sense at first. There was no _calm_ when Sephiroth was around. But slowly Cloud began to process other things than his enemy’s presence. The fact that he was in his ShinRa apartment, in the past. That the Sephiroth in front of him wore the same ShinRa-issue pajama pants as Cloud did, rather than his armor, and his hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. That he didn't hold Masamune. In fact, his arms were crossed over his bare chest, and instead of his usual expression of faint smugness, he mostly looked tired. 

It took several more minutes for Cloud to find his voice, and it still came out tight and strangled. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“You were having a nightmare,” Sephiroth said, as though Cloud wasn't acutely aware of that fact. As though Sephiroth himself wasn't a main feature in many of Cloud's nightmares.

Cloud scowled. “Get out.”

“No.”

“...what?”

Sephiroth sighed. “If I leave, you’ll go back to sleep.”

“So?” 

“ _So_ ,” Sephiroth said with exaggerated patience, “I have three very important meetings with the president and several of his directors tomorrow. I need to be rested.”

Cloud glared at him. “What does that have to do with me sleeping?”

Green eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I can't sleep through your nightmares.”

It took a minute for the implication to process, and when it did, Cloud's blood ran cold. “You… you see my _nightmares?!_ ”

“Yes,” Sephiroth said, like it was obvious. At Cloud’s horrified stare, he frowned. “You... didn't realize?”

“No!” Cloud hissed. “No, why the hell would I have any reason to think you can _see my nightmares?!_ ” He wanted to back away further, but the wall behind him hemmed him in, and the room was too small for him to get around Sephiroth to escape out the door. He pressed his shoulders against the wall anyway, hard enough that the plaster creaked. ...Maybe if he pushed hard enough he could break through the wall and escape that way. 

Sephiroth sighed again, then - thank Gaia - stepped back from the side of the bed to lean on Cloud’s desk. It was only a foot or two of additional distance, but even that little bit of space was enough that Cloud could make himself stop trying to back straight through the wall. Sephiroth waited, silent and patient; finally Cloud burst out, “How long?” 

“Since you joined ShinRa,” Sephiroth answered calmly. “Though it wasn’t until shortly before we retrieved you from Nibelheim that I realized where they were coming from.” 

That was well over a year’s worth of nightmares. Cloud shivered, pulling his knees to his chest and curling around them. The thought that _Sephiroth_ of all people had been a witness to his nightmares all this time… He wanted to throw up, and had to swallow a few times before he could trust his voice. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” 

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Sephiroth said. Cloud stared at him incredulously for a second before realizing he meant it as a joke, and then kept staring at him because he couldn’t quite figure out how to deal with Sephiroth joking about anything, much less this. 

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, an intensely human gesture that made Cloud think more of Genesis than of the deadly madman who’d nearly destroyed the Planet. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t realize you weren’t aware.” He hesitated, his body language suddenly conveying uncertainty - another human emotion bizarre to see on him - then added, “You don’t see my dreams?” 

“No,” Cloud said immediately, then paused. “I don’t think so.” 

Sephiroth chuckled dryly. “I suppose my average dream is considerably less… _memorable…_ than yours.” 

Cloud shivered. As horrible as the thought was of Sephiroth seeing his nightmares, the thought of him seeing Sephiroth’s nightmares was almost worse. He didn’t want to know what the son of Calamity dreamed about. And he definitely didn’t want him spending the night in Cloud’s room. “Go away.” 

“I need to rest,” Sephiroth said.

“You aren’t going to get any sleep standing in my room,” Cloud pointed out. 

“No,” Sephiroth agreed, “but it’s still more restful to stand here awake than it is to suffer through your nightmares.” Another hesitation, though this time it seemed more cautious than unsure. Finally he said carefully, “They… seemed worse than usual tonight.” 

Cloud crossed his arms. He knew the tenor of his nightmares well enough by now to know this batch had been sparked by the discussion of Noctis Lucis Caelum’s SOLDIER treatments earlier that afternoon, but he wasn’t about to discuss any of that with Sephiroth. 

After a few minutes of silence, Sephiroth seemed to realize Cloud wasn’t going to say anything. He shifted against the desk, absently flipping his hair out of the way and re-folding his arms, clearly settling in for the long haul. Cloud glared at him, but it wasn’t as though he could do anything about it. If Cloud left the room, Sephiroth would just follow him. No, he was stuck here for the rest of the night. Scowling, he crossed his legs and leaned against the wall, glaring at Sephiroth. 

It was going to be a long, long night. 


	4. Materia Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis has his first encounter with materia magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd forgotten, when I first wrote this part, that Cloud is the one who teaches the player (via Barrett) how to use materia in the original FFVII. It's his Thing, I guess.

By the time Cloud’s alarm blared to life the next morning, he was so tense he nearly jumped off the bed at the sound. Sephiroth just stretched and yawned as if he’d actually spent the night sleeping instead of leaning against Cloud’s desk. His eyes had fallen closed at some point, but blinked open now, those disconcerting catlike pupils wide and almost normal-looking in the dark room. His eyes found Cloud’s; he inclined his head and left the room without a word. 

Alone, Cloud sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He was exhausted; despite his mako-enhanced stamina, staying awake on a hair-trigger all night had worn him out. Sephiroth hadn’t done anything except stand there, but the nightmares he didn’t want Cloud to have while sleeping had been screaming through the back of Cloud’s mind anyway. 

He wanted to talk to someone about this, but Kunsel had a mission in the south for the next couple of days with Zack and Angeal. Cloud wasn't sure Kunsel would really understand, either. Cloud had told him about the future, but there was a big difference between knowing in theory what Sephiroth was capable of, and watching him slaughter everyone you cared about. Aeris - this timeline’s Aeris, who hadn't faced Sephiroth with him - wouldn't understand either. Genesis was the most likely to understand at least some of it, but if Genesis found out Sephiroth had spent the night in Cloud's room, he’d have a fit, and Cloud wasn't up for dealing with a Genesis fit right now.

Sighing, Cloud rubbed a hand over his face and rolled out of bed. He had a couple of small local missions to deal with today; Lazard had been keeping him close to Midgar ever since Nibelheim, probably out of a not-entirely-unfounded suspicion that Cloud might just… not come back from a more distant assignment. Nothing around Midgar was especially difficult for any First Class, much less someone Cloud's level, but it would still give him a chance to fight something, to burn off some of the restless energy that sang in his blood after the long night of tension. 

He showered, dressed, and headed out. At least this early in the morning he didn’t have to worry much about being chased by members of his fanclub ( _Gaia,_ he had a _fanclub_ , and he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that). The missions didn’t take long, despite his best efforts to go slowly; there was only so much he could do to draw out clearing a couple infestations of razorweed, a flock of ahrimans, and a particularly stubborn nest of hedgehog pies. He swung by Aeris’s church after he finished, but it was empty - Aeris was probably out with her wagon selling flowers. 

Finally Cloud conceded that unless he wanted to wander around Wall Market and chase off pickpockets the rest of the day, he didn’t have anything to do except return to ShinRa headquarters. He didn’t want to, because Sephiroth was there and he _really_ didn’t want to run into Sephiroth, but he couldn’t stay out here forever. Hopefully Sephiroth’s oh-so-important meetings with the president would take up the whole day. 

He stopped by his office - he’d been given the room a month ago at the same time he’d been assigned teaching duties - to drop off the paperwork for the missions, then wandered down toward the training room, out of habit more than anything since Hojo was dead. It was usually empty this time of day, with the Seconds and Thirds working out in the gym or away on missions, so with any luck he wouldn’t be bothered. 

Lost in thought, he didn’t realize there was someone else in the room until he’d stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Noctis Lucis Caelum stood in the center of the space, working through some kind of elaborate martial form. He wore the blue uniform of a SOLDIER Third Class, and wielded a standard-issue broadsword as he stepped through the form, taking the movements with slow, deliberate care. He spotted Cloud partway through a turn and stopped short, grey eyes startled. Like Zack had said yesterday, there was no sign of a mako glow in them.

“Sorry,” Cloud said quickly, and reached for the door to leave.

“It’s fine,” Noctis answered. He straightened from the low stance he’d been in, hand moving as though to drop his sword before catching himself and shrugging awkwardly. “I was almost done anyway.” 

“What were you doing?” Cloud asked. The form Noctis had been performing looked like the kind of thing Yuffie had done when she trained, not like anything in a SOLDIER routine. Maybe Noctis was from Wutai, too - his black hair and pale skin would fit right in. It might even explain where he’d come from, and why he hadn’t appeared in Cloud’s original timeline. The Wutai War had ended slightly earlier this time around, with fewer casualties on the Wutai side. Noctis might be a Wutai soldier who’d died in Cloud’s timeline, but lived in this one. If that was the case, it was odd that he’d agreed to join ShinRa at all, but, well, Cloud would have once said the same thing about himself. 

Noctis looked down at the broadsword in his hand. “It’s, uh, it’s been a while since I’ve used this kind of sword. Wanted to re-familiarize myself.” 

Maybe he normally used a throwing star, like Yuffie. “You can use your own weapons in SOLDIER,” Cloud pointed out, and gestured at First Tsurugi on his back. “If there’s something you like better…”

“Nah,” Noctis said easily. “This is fine.” He slung the broadsword into its holster and headed for the door. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way.” 

Cloud shrugged. “I’m not doing anything.” 

Noctis stopped and raised an eyebrow. “You came to the training room to not do anything?”

“...Avoid Sephiroth,” Cloud admitted. 

“Sephiroth? He’s that general everyone’s afraid of, right?” Noctis asked. 

Cloud stared at him. He’d noticed, back when they’d first gone to recruit Noctis, that the guy hadn’t seemed to know who Genesis was - but to not know who _Sephiroth_ was…

Noctis gave a nervous little laugh, one hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “I just got here, remember? I’m not exactly up on the who’s who of ShinRa.”

“Right.” Cloud _really_ did not want to talk about Sephiroth right now, no matter how weird Noctis’s lack of knowledge was. Noctis seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so he tried, “Uh, how’s everything going? Now that you’re here.” 

“Okay, I guess,” Noctis said. He looked down, tugging at the front of his blue uniform self-consciously. “Better than sleeping in the open and hunting for dinner, at least.” 

Cloud nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, though, and an awkward silence fell over them. Finally Noctis said, “Guess I should get going. Room’s all yours.” He slipped through the door with a casual wave, leaving Cloud alone to wonder. 

* * *

Cloud ended up retreating to the First Class break room to doze on the couch. It wasn’t especially restful - he jolted awake at every passing footstep, terrified that Sephiroth was going to show up again - but it was enough that he didn’t bother trying to sleep that night. He didn’t think he could deal with Sephiroth being in his room again. 

The next day was Thursday, Cloud’s day to teach materia use and theory to SOLDIER cadets and rookie Thirds. The class wasn’t large; without Jenova’s body to provide an ongoing supply of genetic material for SOLDIER mako treatments, ShinRa had dramatically throttled recruiting and admission into SOLDIER. Cloud had no idea what they would do when they ran out of whatever Jenova cells they’d had on hand before the Nibel incident. Maybe that’s what the Science Department was focused on right now - trying to find a way to replicate the process when Jenova’s body was so much ash.

In any case, the class this time was mostly cadets, and the three rookie Thirds who had, for whatever reason, managed to miss materia lessons up until now. Noctis Lucis Caelum was one of them, standing slightly apart from the others, rolling a Thunder materia between his palms and looking bored. He was the only one who didn’t snap to attention when Cloud stepped to the front of the Training Room, though despite his disinterested slouch his grey eyes were sharp behind his messy black hair.

“So,” Cloud said. “Who here has worked with materia before?” A couple hands were tentatively raised - not Noctis’s, though. Cloud kept half an eye on him while pointing to one of the students, a cadet who couldn’t have been more than fourteen. “Can you explain what materia is?”

“Crystallized mako, sir!” the boy barked dutifully. 

“Good,” Cloud said. There was a murmur of confusion from the rest of the class, so he explained, “Mako is the physical manifestation of the Lifestream. Materia is what you get when a memory or sensation within the Lifestream takes solid form. When you hold it, you’re able to access the power of the memory or sensation stored within to create different magic effects.” 

He pulled out his own Bolt materia and held it up. “This is a Bolt materia. As you can guess from the name, it casts lightning-based magic.” He held up his Barrier next. “Barrier. A raw Barrier materia will cast a plain Barrier spell. This one is mastered, so it casts Wall. Some materia gain new spells as you level them up.” 

“Level them up?” Noctis asked. “Like a video game?”

“Video game?” Cloud echoed with a frown. 

Noctis made a vague hand motion, brow furrowing. “You know, like arcade games and stuff?” 

Cloud stared at him for a few seconds before remembering the arcade at the Golden Saucer, the bright video screens offering a variety of games. “Yeah.” 

Noctis nodded thoughtfully. He looked interested in the lesson now, eyeing his materia with clear curiosity.

For the next ten minutes or so, Cloud explained the basics of using materia: warm-up times, activation, range and area of effect. His students were all using ShinRa manufactured materia, and he let them handle his Restore materia to feel the difference. Some of them clearly couldn’t tell, which wasn’t unexpected - everyone responded to materia differently, and some people were more sensitive to its power than others. Noctis was clearly in the sensitive group; his eyes widened when he touched the Restore and he twitched like he’d been stung. 

Finally it was time to let the students try casting. Three test dummies were set up along one end of the Training Room, and Cloud got the students lined up a safe distance back. “Be careful,” he warned. “Even low-level materia can be deadly if used incorrectly.” Probably not to the Thirds, to be honest - their SOLDIER toughness and mako-enhanced healing could handle anything an unleveled, manufactured materia could produce - but the cadets didn’t have that yet. 

There was a chorus of “Yes, sir!”s as the first set of students stepped forward, within range of the dummies. It took a while for each of them to manage a successful cast, between figuring out how to use the materia at all, and the slow warm-up speed typical of unleveled materia, but a couple of minutes later, the dummies had been sufficiently showered in fire and ice. Cloud waved the group back, and the next set stepped forward. 

Noctis was in the fifth and last group, and Cloud kept a close eye on him as he walked up to the line. Despite Genesis’s insistence that Noctis must have had a mastered Fire materia to have done what he did to the harpies in Corel, Noctis’s reactions in class suggested he had never even touched materia before today. Like all the other students before him, he slotted his materia into his bracer and held his hand out toward the dummy in front of him, and the air began to crackle with electricity. 

Cloud had half a second to realize something was wrong - the power level was too high, the area of effect too large - and to make a grab for his Barrier. Then lightning blasted through the entire back half of the Training Room. 

Cloud slammed into the wall, the breath knocked out of him and his ears ringing from the deafening boom. White spots danced in his vision, and he blinked for several seconds before his eyes cleared enough to see. All three dummies were blackened and charred, and electric arcs still danced and sparked between the dummies’ metal stands, the walls, and the floor. Thank Odin, the students all appeared unharmed, if as literally and metaphorically shocked as Cloud was. 

The only thing that kept him from leaping at Noctis immediately was the fact that Noctis, too, was flat on his ass, his hair standing on end and his mouth hanging open in surprise. He looked up as Cloud stormed over to him, his eyes wide.

“What did you _do_?!” Cloud demanded.

“I don’t know!” Noctis said. “I just… tried to cast it, like you said.” 

Cloud held out a hand. “Give me that materia.” 

Noctis popped the little green sphere out of his bracer and handed it over without protest. Cloud rolled it between his hands, trying to get a feel for the magic stored inside. Given what had just happened, he was expecting to sense a high-level Tri-Thundaga spell, or maybe even an Electrocute. But all he felt was a low-level Thunder - the bog-standard manufactured materia any SOLDIER could get from ShinRa’s Equipment Room.

He looked down at Noctis again. “Where did you get this?” 

“The Equipment Room, when they gave me the rest of my stuff,” Noctis said. “Is it… broken?” 

“Materia doesn’t break,” Cloud said. “Not like that.” 

Noctis frowned at his own hands, then up at Cloud. “So what happened?” 

“I don’t know,” Cloud admitted. He motioned to the other students to get back, waiting for Noctis to roll to his feet and join them; when they were safely clustered at the other end of the room, Cloud cast Wall over them. Then he turned to the training dummies. Given how quickly the spell had gone off when Noctis cast it, Cloud was surprised to find that it took the expected several seconds to warm up. And when the spell finally cast, it produced a single thin bolt of lightning that did little more than darken the top of the dummy’s head. 

He stared at the materia, baffled. That wasn’t how magic worked. It didn’t make any _sense_.

“...Sir?” one of the cadets asked tentatively. 

Cloud’s confusion must have been showing on his face. He quickly schooled his expression back to neutral. “That’s enough for today,” he said to his students. “Practice with your materia this week. You probably won’t be able to level it before next week’s class, but you should be able to cut down the casting time. Dismissed.” 

They saluted and filed out, except for Noctis, who stayed behind, eyes on his materia which Cloud still held. “So… do I get it back?” 

Cloud hesitated. “Try it one more time.” He tossed the materia to Noctis, who caught it and slotted it back into his bracer. Cloud dropped a Wall over the two of them, then nodded toward the dummies. 

Noctis held out his hand, brow furrowed in concentration. Again Cloud felt the tingle of electricity almost immediately, but this time the spell Noctis produced was identical to the lackluster bolt Cloud had just cast. He frowned at the materia. “That’s weird.” 

“Yeah,” Cloud agreed. “You’ve really never used materia before?” 

“Never,” Noctis said. For a moment he looked like he wanted to say something else, but then he closed his mouth and shrugged. 

“Well, be careful with this one,” Cloud said. “You might want to ask for a replacement, just in case. No one got hurt this time, but without knowing what made it do that…” 

Noctis nodded. “Sorry about that.” 

Cloud shrugged. “Not your fault.” 

Noctis grunted agreement, then turned and headed out after the rest of the students. Cloud watched him go in silence, unease curling in his gut. Maybe it was just a coincidence - maybe something had gone horribly wrong in the materia manufacturing process that had caused power to somehow get stored up in that particular materia. Cloud hadn’t ever heard of anything like that happening before, but he also knew very little about ShinRa’s manufacturing process. Maybe he could ask Genesis later. 

But the fact that it had been Noctis of all people who’d done it - Noctis, who’d appeared seemingly from thin air under mysterious circumstances, who had killed an entire flock of harpies in minutes apparently without the use of materia, who didn’t recognize ShinRa’s two most well-known SOLDIERS…

Cloud sighed. With Jenova and Hojo dead, he’d thought he could finally relax a little, but Noctis was too dangerous a mystery to leave alone. He just hoped Noctis didn’t have any plans to destroy the world.


	5. Theorizing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Firsts speculate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still firmly believe Cloud and Kunsel are moirails.

“He can’t be from Wutai,” Kunsel said, frowning beneath his helmet. “Someone from Wutai would  _ definitely _ know who Genesis is, and almost certainly Sephiroth too.” 

It was the next day; the others had returned from their mission, and they had gathered in Sephiroth’s office for the usual Friday drinks. Cloud hadn’t planned to go - still didn’t think he could be in the same room as Sephiroth, not after the other night - but apparently Kunsel had heard about Noctis’s materia mishap and he and Zack had all but dragged Cloud along. 

Now, Kunsel and Cloud sat shoulder to shoulder on the narrow couch that had appeared in Sephiroth’s office after the drinks group had expanded. Genesis lounged in a chair nearby, while Zack sat on the back of the couch next to Cloud, his knee bumping Cloud’s other shoulder. The three of them were all that was keeping Cloud from bolting. Sephiroth leaned against the wall by the window on the opposite side of the room, but his presence still burned in Cloud’s awareness. 

At least the mystery of Noctis Lucis Caelum made for a good distraction. At Kunsel’s prompting, Cloud had described his meeting with Noctis in the Training Room two days ago, as well as what had happened during materia class, along with his theory about Noctis’s origins. 

“I’m positive he didn’t know who I was,” Genesis spoke up. “I’ve encountered him in the halls a few times since, and he knows me from our introduction in the Corel Desert, but that’s all.” He looked irritated by this, his arms crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed. 

“How can he possibly not know who Genesis and Sephiroth are, though?” Zack protested. “ _Everybody_ knows them.” 

“Vincent didn’t,” Cloud said thoughtfully. “Not until I told him.” 

“Vincent was sleeping for thirty years,” Kunsel pointed out. “Are you saying Noctis is… whatever Vincent is?” 

Cloud considered. “I don’t know of anyone else like Vincent.” 

“Which doesn’t mean it’s out of the realm of possibility,” Genesis said. “We still don’t know everything Hojo was up to.” 

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Hojo, but he didn’t say anything. It made Cloud uneasy. Sephiroth wasn’t the type to be sensitive to others’ feelings - even this Sephiroth, who wasn’t a raving madman - yet he seemed to be trying to avoid upsetting Cloud. 

“It’s still pretty unlikely,” Kunsel said. 

“We need more information,” Genesis said. “Whatever Noctis is, I don’t relish finding out only when his mysteries become a threat.” He shot a pointed look at Cloud. 

Cloud scowled back. He’d _tried_ to keep everyone else out of his quest to stop Jenova and save the world. It wasn’t his fault they’d all decided to get involved anyway. 

“Hopefully his mysteries won’t become a threat at all,” Zack said optimistically. “I mean, he seems like a nice enough guy, and he doesn’t have a grudge against anyone.” 

“That we know of,” Kunsel said. 

“Come on,” Zack protested. “What are the odds that Noctis is another time-traveler like Cloud? It’s beyond unlikely. He’s probably just a hermit from some backwoods village.” 

“Besides,” Sephiroth spoke up, making Cloud jump. “We’ll get more information soon. Tseng and Lazard have cleared Caelum to begin taking on missions starting Monday.” 

“Already?” Kunsel asked. “He’s not out of the waiting period yet.” 

There was normally a two-month waiting period for Thirds before they were allowed to begin taking missions, meant to give them time to adjust to the mako treatments and make sure there would be no ill effects that might put them - or their companions - in danger on a mission. Cloud had gotten out of it when he joined SOLDIER since his treatments had been done years ago. 

“I spoke with Tseng this afternoon,” Sephiroth said. “Given the shortage of SOLDIERs available for fieldwork and Caelum’s… _unusual_ reaction to the treatments, we felt it would be more useful to allow him to begin taking missions immediately.” He paused and looked over at Cloud. “Cloud will accompany him to observe and ensure nothing goes wrong.” 

Cloud blinked. “Me?” 

At the same time, Zack said in surprise, “Cloud? But… Angeal’s normally responsible for shadowing new Thirds.” 

“Angeal is still on restricted duty,” Sephiroth said. “As is Cloud. With the terrorist threat heating up on the West Continent, I can’t afford to have two Firsts benched.”

Cloud narrowed his eyes. “Why me?” He knew full well that he was the bigger risk of the two, in ShinRa’s eyes. Not only a flight risk, but also… he’d spent most of his time in ShinRa trying to kill Sephiroth. If Tseng and Lazard were going to un-bench anyone, it would be Angeal, who had been a loyal SOLDIER for far longer and was only restricted while they made sure the Nibelheim incident didn’t have any long-term effects. 

Sephiroth met Cloud’s eyes. “ _I_ know you remained in SOLDIER primarily to ensure I don’t become what I did in your timeline. Neither the Turks nor Lazard are aware of that. They are concerned that, absent concrete reasons to remain with the company, you may choose to risk desertion.” 

Cloud glared at him. Genesis said in a placating tone, “He’s right. Tseng has been concerned about you since you came back.” 

Something clicked in Cloud’s head and he transferred the glare to Genesis. “That’s how you got them to give me the cadets’ materia class.” 

Genesis put on a mock-offended look. “Of course not! I just thought you would enjoy it.” 

Kunsel gave a snort that showed clearly what he thought of that, then bumped Cloud’s shoulder lightly with his own. “Whatever the reason,” he said, “this is a good opportunity for you to see more of what Noctis can do. You’ve talked to him more than any of the rest of us - he might open up to you.” 

Sephiroth nodded. “We knew accepting Caelum into SOLDIER would be a risk, but allowing him to remain independent was an even larger one. Now it’s simply a matter of determining his loyalties and goals.” 

Genesis snorted. “Admit it, Sephiroth. You just want to see what he’s capable of. You’re nearly as curious about Noctis as you were about Cloud.”

“I won’t deny I’m curious,” Sephiroth said easily. “So are Tseng and Lazard. As you said, we need more information, and the best way to get it is to allow Caelum some freedom to act.”

Kunsel nodded. “If he does have some hidden goal, he could start working toward it.” 

“Exactly,” Sephiroth agreed. “In addition to Cloud accompanying him on missions, he’ll be under Turk surveillance any time he leaves ShinRa headquarters. If he has secrets, they’ll be uncovered soon enough.” 

“Good,” Zack said, then yawned and stretched, back arching so far he almost tipped off the couch. “Speaking of missions, I have an early one tomorrow morning. Who thought it was a good idea to set a seven-AM departure?” 

Genesis snorted. “If Angeal was here, he’d make you do extra laps for complaining.” 

“Lucky for me, then,” Zack said, though the smile that crossed his face was almost sad. Since Nibelheim, Angeal rarely spent time with the rest of the Firsts anymore, and never when Cloud was around. Cloud, personally, was grateful for it. He could tolerate working with the man after Angeal had sold him out to Hollander and therefore Hojo, the same way he tolerated the Turks’ presence after Meteor. But he didn’t think he could forgive him, and definitely would never be friends with him. 

Zack shook himself as if to shake off the melancholy, and jumped off the couch to his feet. “Well, I’m going to get some sleep. See you guys in a few days!” 

Cloud nodded and waved goodnight as Zack disappeared through the door. Genesis sighed and stood as well. “I likewise have an early-morning engagement.”

“Have to get your beauty rest before being photographed on parade, huh, sir?” Kunsel teased.

Genesis sniffed, puffing up like a preening chocobo. “If one is representing the ShinRa Electric Power Company in the newspapers, one must look the part. The Hero of Wutai cannot be seen as sleep-deprived.” 

Kunsel laughed and Cloud smiled. Genesis grinned back, then swept from the room with a final “Goodnight!”.

Cloud realized a second too late that with Genesis and Zack gone, it was only him, Kunsel, and Sephiroth remaining in the office. He managed not to outright run from the room, but only just; as it was Kunsel had to jog after him, calling a quick “Night, sir!” over his shoulder to Sephiroth. 

Only when they had left the office block, well out of SOLDIER-enhanced earshot, did Kunsel say, “What’s going on? I thought you were getting along better with him now.” 

Of course Kunsel would see right through him. Cloud shook his head and headed for the elevators, thumbing the call button. Kunsel waited until they were inside, the elevator on its way to the barracks, then said, “Well?”

“Sephiroth woke me up a few nights ago,” Cloud admitted reluctantly. “He… he can see my nightmares.” 

Kunsel stared at him for a moment, then reached up and tugged off his regulation helmet, shaking out red hair flattened by hours of being smashed against his skull. He’d worn the helmet more than most SOLDIERs even before Nibelheim; after it had been all that saved him from being recaptured during their escape attempt, he pretty much only took it off to shower and sleep. And, rarely, when he and Cloud were alone. Kunsel met Cloud’s eyes. “Because of your S-cells.” 

Cloud nodded. 

“What did he do after he woke you up?” 

“Stayed there,” Cloud mumbled. “Wouldn’t let me go back to sleep because he didn’t want to see more nightmares.” The words came out bitter. Sephiroth didn’t want to see them, but Cloud had _lived_ them, and it had been all Sephiroth’s fault. 

“No wonder you’re twitchy,” Kunsel said quietly. “Have you slept since then?” 

Cloud shrugged one shoulder, then, under Kunsel’s pointed stare, admitted, “I’ve napped in the Break Room a few times. It’s fine, I can go longer without sleep.” 

“Maybe, but even you’ll need to sleep eventually,” Kunsel said. 

Cloud shrugged again. The elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors opening onto the barracks, and they stepped out into the hall. Kunsel sighed. “I guess if you get tired enough, you’ll sleep too deeply to have nightmares.”

“Maybe,” Cloud said. He didn’t really believe it - he knew how bad the nightmares could get - but Kunsel wasn’t wrong. Cloud couldn’t go forever without sleep. “I’ll figure something out. It’s just…”

“It’s creepy,” Kunsel supplied, and Cloud nodded. There wasn’t anything to say to that, so they walked in silence the rest of the way to Cloud’s room. At the door, Kunsel hesitated, then reached out and gripped Cloud’s shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do…” 

“Thanks,” Cloud said, and meant it. 

Kunsel gave him a rueful smile, then let go. “At least try to get some sleep,” he said. 

Cloud ducked his head, pushing open the door to his room. “Night, Kunsel.” 

“Night,” Kunsel answered quietly. 

Cloud closed the door, but it was a long time before he heard Kunsel’s footsteps walk away.


	6. Noctis's First Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis goes on his first SOLDIER mission.

Cloud spent the weekend in the First Class break room dozing against Kunsel’s shoulder, so he was almost rested by the time Monday morning rolled around. The same was not apparently true for Noctis Lucis Caelum, who showed up nearly ten minutes late to the Briefing Room, yawning and sleepy-eyed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. If he was bothered by the annoyed look on Lazard’s face, he didn’t show it. “Slept through my alarm.” 

“Perhaps we can get you a louder one,” Lazard said dryly. He sat at the far end of the room’s long glass table, the mission briefing on the table before him. 

“Won’t help,” Noctis said blearily. He blinked, making what appeared to be a valiant effort to look more alert. “Director,” he said belatedly, then, to Cloud, “Commander.” 

Cloud folded his arms. “You’re lucky. If I was any of the other commanders, you’d be in trouble.” 

“Why?” Noctis asked around another yawn. “‘S’not like this mission is urgent. The system assigned it to me Friday but told me not to leave until Monday. Pretty sure another ten minutes won’t matter.” 

“Perhaps not,” Lazard admitted. “However, discipline is still important. SOLDIER is a military organization.” 

“I thought ShinRa was an electric power company,” Noctis said mildly. 

“So it is,” Lazard agreed, equally mild, though his eyes were sharp behind his glasses.

Cloud shot Noctis a warning glance. Noctis wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it wasn’t something he ought to bring up in the Briefing Room with Lazard. Fortunately, Noctis seemed to get the hint, and just said, “So, what now?”

Lazard slid the mission briefing packet to Noctis. “The mission details are in here. Normally, you’ll be assigned missions via the automated system over your PHS, but I like to be present for a new SOLDIER’s first day of missions when possible.”

Noctis blinked at him. “PHS?”

“Didn’t you get one?” Lazard asked. He pulled his own out of his pocket and held it up. “If you haven’t, you should stop by the Equipment Room before leaving on your mission.”

“Oh, that thing,” Noctis said. “Yeah, they gave me one when they gave me the uniforms and stuff.” 

“Good,” Lazard said. “Your PHS is how you’ll handle most mission assignments and other bookkeeping tasks. Keep it on you at all times.” 

Noctis grunted acknowledgement, his attention already on the mission packet. “What’s a cripshay?” he asked. 

“Annoying, mostly,” Cloud said. “I’ve only ever seen them in the train graveyard in the slums, but a group of them was spotted in Sector Six near the Wall Market.” 

“...Right,” Noctis said, in the tone of one who had no idea what that meant. “Let’s go.” 

Lazard gave them a nod. “Report back to me when you’ve finished.” 

Noctis returned the nod, as easy and authoritative as though he was the director of SOLDIER instead of Lazard, then seemed to remember himself and tossed a quick salute as he turned toward the door. Cloud met Lazard’s eyes for a moment, seeing his own confusion reflected there. Noctis’s behavior was definitely strange for a SOLDIER, almost as though he was used to being the one in charge instead of the one following orders. 

Well, that was part of the mystery Cloud and the other Firsts - and for that matter, Lazard and Tseng and the Turks - were hoping to solve. Observing Noctis on his missions was the first step. 

Cloud let Noctis take the lead as they left ShinRa HQ, but as they crossed the Sector Six upper plate, Noctis fell back to walk beside Cloud. “There’s a bunch of girls following us,” he murmured. 

Glancing around, Cloud spotted the girls in question gathered on the sidewalk across the street, huddled in a group and staring at Cloud. When they saw him look their way, several of them waved, and one lifted a camera. Cloud turned away again, feeling his face turn red. “Fan club,” he said to Noctis. “Ignore them.” 

“Fan club?” Noctis repeated. “For you?” Then he winced. “Sorry. I just mean—”

“It’s fine,” Cloud said. He knew what Noctis meant. Cloud himself still had trouble with the idea that he had a _fan club_. “All the Firsts have them. So do a lot of Seconds and some of the Thirds.” 

Noctis frowned. “Who controls them? ShinRa?” 

“Nobody,” Cloud said. “They form on their own.” Remembering how Noctis hadn’t understood who Genesis and Sephiroth were, he added, “A lot of people in Midgar admire SOLDIER. For the ones who can’t or don’t want to join, fan clubs are a way to be part of it.” 

Noctis made a noncommittal noise and let the subject drop, though Cloud noticed he was careful to stay on Cloud’s other side, away from the ogling girls. At least they didn’t have to stay on the streets of the upper plate long; within a few minutes they’d reached the long stairs down to the Sector Six slums. Cloud took the lead there. Noctis was gawking at the Wall Market like the most naive tourist in Midgar, and Cloud had to glare away more than one ambitious pickpocket before they reached the outer edge of the Market where the cripshays had been spotted. 

At least finding their targets was easy. They’d barely left the relatively well-lit alleys of the Market when Cloud heard skittering in the shadows. Noctis stilled, one hand stretching out to his side and his fingers flexing as though reaching for a weapon, though Cloud had no idea where from since his broadsword was still on his back. Cloud said, “This is your mission. If you need me to step in, say something, but otherwise I’ll stay back and let you handle it.” 

“Right,” Noctis agreed. Cloud retreated to perch on top of the rusted shell of a truck wedged against a pillar, leaving Noctis alone in the open. His fingers flexed one more time, then he drew his broadsword just as a pair of long sharp pincers poked out from beneath a tumbled trash bin. “Eurgh,” Noctis muttered. “It’s a _bug._ ” Then he took several quick steps backward as the rest of the cripshays emerged, nearly a dozen of the things creeping from the shadows to surround him. 

“Don’t like bugs?” Cloud asked. 

“Hate ‘em,” Noctis answered, then lunged, sword swinging at the nearest cripshay. 

Watching him fight, Cloud couldn’t help but admire how lightly Noctis moved. His first strike flipped his target into the air; Noctis leaped up to follow and his feet barely touched the ground again as he tore through the rest, until he landed on the final cripshay and skewered it with his sword. He was fast, too - dispatching the entire group in under a minute, his strikes with the broadsword precise and sure. 

When he’d finished, Noctis made as if to throw his broadsword to the ground, catching himself only at the last second and shooting a guilty glance at Cloud. It was the same motion he’d made last week in the Training Room, and Cloud found himself wondering about it. What kind of a warrior just tossed away his weapon after a fight? 

Before he could ask about it, though, Noctis swung his sword onto his back, the guilty expression fading beneath his usual mask of indifference. “That’s it, right?” 

Cloud nodded. 

“Easy enough,” Noctis said. He turned toward the lights of the Wall Market. “Let’s get out of here. This place stinks.” 

Cloud couldn’t help the faint smile that touched his lips as he followed Noctis back to ShinRa HQ. He hadn’t learned much about Noctis yet, but it was clear the guy was soft, unused to the realities of life in the slums. How he’d survived months on his own in the wilds of the Western Continent, Cloud had no idea. Though, to be fair, neither the cold windswept peaks of the Nibel mountains nor the open plains of Corel had anything like the concentrated filth of the worst parts of the Midgar slums. 

When they arrived back at the Briefing Room, Lazard was still there, speaking with a pair of Seconds whose names Cloud couldn’t remember. Lazard handed the Seconds a mission briefing packet and they hurried out, saluting Cloud as they passed. 

“That was fast,” Lazard said to Noctis when they were gone. “I take it you had no trouble?” 

“Easy peasy,” Noctis said. “So… how many of these hunts am I supposed to do?” 

“Third Class SOLDIERs have a quota of five missions per five-day period, with at least one day off in between periods,” Lazard said. He looked like he was about to say more - probably to give Noctis the same lecture he’d given Cloud almost a year ago about taking downtime in between missions - but Noctis cut him off. 

“So I just go out and squash some bugs once a day?” He sounded vaguely disbelieving. “That’s it?” 

Lazard folded his arms. “Not all missions will be so easy,” he said. “The quota/limit system is in place to ensure full utilization of SOLDIERS while avoiding overextension. You’re expected to spend the rest of your time improving your skills, recuperating from more difficult missions, and in the event of injury, recovering.”

“Recuperation sounds good,” Noctis said, and yawned. “Gonna go take a nap.” To Cloud he added, “Meet you here tomorrow?” 

Caught off-guard, Cloud didn’t respond immediately, but Noctis didn’t wait for him. He gave Cloud and Lazard a sloppy salute and sauntered out of the room. 

When the door had closed behind him, Lazard chuckled. “Given the circumstances of Caelum’s recruitment, I’d rather expected to have to slow him down as I did you. It appears that’s not going to be a problem.” 

Cloud shook his head in agreement. Before he could make his own escape, though, Lazard added, “What do you think, Commander? How was his first mission?” 

Cloud shrugged. “Uneventful.” 

“I suppose we shouldn’t expect to uncover all his mysteries his first week in SOLDIER,” Lazard said ruefully. The overhead lights gleamed off his glasses as he added, “It took considerably longer to uncover yours, after all.” 

Cloud met his stare levelly, though his stomach churned. Lazard didn’t know the whole truth - or at least, Cloud sincerely hoped not. Only six people - the other Firsts and Vincent - knew about the time travel. The Turks who’d investigated the Nibelheim incident had managed to infer that it wasn’t the first time Cloud had been held prisoner and experimented on by Hojo, and had said as much in their official report on the matter, but Hojo had been unmonitored for so long that it wasn’t odd to anyone that he might have kept a secret captive. If Lazard ever figured out the whole truth, that Cloud was a time-traveler from nearly a decade in the future… Best not to even think about it. 

Lazard broke the stare first, deliberately looking down to the pile of papers on the table in front of him. “Sephiroth volunteered you to shadow Caelum because he believes the two of you have something of a rapport already. See what you can do to lean into that rapport while you continue to monitor his missions.” 

“Yes, sir,” Cloud answered neutrally. “Will that be all?” 

“Yes, Strife. Thank you.” Lazard picked up the paper on top of his pile, the motion a clear dismissal. 

But as Cloud left the Briefing Room, the back of his neck prickled under the director’s thoughtful gaze. 


	7. Midnight Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cloud and Sephiroth have another late-night chat.

The rest of the week passed remarkably smoothly. Noctis did his single quota-filling mission each day, then vanished back to his bunk, presumably to nap the rest of the day away. Cloud couldn't help but wonder if Noctis was just bored. Someone who could take out an entire harpy flock in minutes wouldn’t see any challenge in the ankle-biting monsters of the slums. At the very least, he was entirely unfazed by the missions he was sent to handle: an unruly patch of razorweed on Tuesday, a flock of ahrimans Wednesday, more cripshays Thursday, and a little cluster of mandragora, likely attracted from their native grasslands habitat by the mako reactors in the city, on Friday. Noctis dealt with each set of monsters with the same agile swordplay he’d used on his first mission. 

They didn’t talk much; Cloud wasn’t exactly one for small talk, and Noctis seemed content with the silence. It wasn’t the easy, comfortable silence of being around Kunsel or Vincent, though - Noctis gave the impression that he didn’t _expect_ Cloud to talk. In fact, he occasionally seemed to forget Cloud was there, or at least seemed surprised when Cloud stepped out of whatever corner he’d retreated to while Noctis dealt with his targets. It made Cloud think uneasily of that first conversation they’d had by the riverbank, when Noctis admitted to believing SOLDIERs couldn’t talk. 

Other than that, the only somewhat odd thing about Noctis was that he didn’t use his Thunder materia at all on the missions. Given what had happened when he’d tried casting it in class last week, Cloud could hardly blame him, but it would have been useful against the ahrimans. At least whatever had caused the explosion seemed to have resolved itself: when Cloud’s Thursday materia class rolled around, Noctis’s attempts at casting Bolt produced little more than a glorified spark. He did still cast almost instantaneously, though, which was unexpected and baffling. Artificial materia simply didn’t cast that quickly, not even fully leveled. It didn’t make any sense, and Cloud made a mental note to ask Genesis about it later, after the commander returned from the parade tour he’d been shipped out on with Sephiroth. 

All in all, it was a quiet and uneventful week. Which was the only excuse Cloud had for lowering his guard.

Noctis hadn’t taken any missions Saturday or Sunday, apparently (and rightfully) unconcerned by his ability to fill his mission quota. But that meant Cloud had had nothing to do either day. Genesis and Sephiroth were on that parade tour, and Kunsel and Zack had been sent to accompany the Turks on a mission to Wutai to deal with a group of freedom fighters unwilling to acknowledge ShinRa’s grip on the region. Cloud spent Saturday with Aeris in the church, helping her tend the garden and listening to her talk about how her flower-selling business was taking off. But she was back out selling on Sunday, so Cloud retreated to the Training Room to get some practice in.

After the easy week with Noctis, battling the illusory monsters was almost interesting, despite the group of curious cadets who gathered to watch. Whatever technologists maintained the Training Room had updated it recently with new monsters modeled after the increasingly aggressive mako mutants that had begun turning up around the reactors. While even those posed little threat to Cloud, they were still more of a challenge than the previous grandhorns and sahagins it had featured. 

He left the Training Room a few hours later, sweaty but invigorated, and all but ran into Lazard in the hallway outside. “Commander Strife,” Lazard greeted him. “Impressive show.”

Something about his tone immediately set Cloud’s teeth on edge. “Director,” he answered neutrally, and turned to walk back to his bunk.

“Do you have a moment?” Lazard fell in step beside Cloud without waiting for an answer. “I wanted to talk to you about a request from the Science Department.”

Cloud’s good mood evaporated in an instant. “Not interested.” He sped up his pace, trying to pull away from Lazard, but the director’s longer legs let him keep up easily.

“At least hear me out,” Lazard said. “I’m sure you’re aware that Hollander’s and Hojo’s deaths left significant gaps in ShinRa’s research programs—”

“Read my contract,” Cloud snapped. “No doctors.” 

“I’m aware,” Lazard said. “This wouldn’t be a medical examination, though. Dr. Meridian just wants to interview you regarding the mako treatments you received—”

“No.” 

“But—”

Cloud whirled on Lazard, teeth bared. “ _No_.” 

Lazard fell back a step, eyes wide, hands half-raised in a defensive motion. “...All right. I’ll let Dr. Meridian know. Thank you.” 

It wasn’t until Lazard had disappeared around a corner of the hallway that Cloud realized his fingers were wrapped around the hilt of First Tsurugi. It took several minutes more for Cloud to calm down enough to make himself move, his feet rooted to the spot with a sickening swirl of terror and fury. He’d intended to return to his room, but when he finally made it to the dorms, he found himself lingering in front of Kunsel’s door instead. But Kunsel was still out on his mission, and wasn’t due back for days. 

Cloud made himself keep moving, stalking into his own room and stripping out of his sweaty clothes. He needed a shower, but that wasn’t going to happen right now, the narrow shower cubby in his room too much like a mako tank when Lazard had just yanked those memories back to the front of Cloud’s mind. He settled for wiping down with a damp washcloth and collapsing onto the bed. It was late afternoon still, too early to go to sleep, but if Cloud went back out into the building then Lazard might find him again. Or some innocent cadet who didn’t deserve to be around Cloud right now. 

He hadn’t expected to sleep, not with the memories of Nibelheim and the labs swirling through his mind, but he’d worked out hard and his body was tired; and at some point the memories smeared and faded into nightmares. Green mako soaking his skin, his clothes, his hair. Men in lab coats standing over him, scalpels slicing into his skin. Screaming in agony, in terror, until his throat was ripped raw and he was dropped back into the mako, green pouring down his throat, filling his lungs, choking him—

“ _Cloud_.” 

He snapped awake, one hand reaching for the hilt of First Tsurugi where it sat beside his bed before he’d even opened his eyes— 

—came up empty and he panicked, _where was his sword_ — 

Got his eyes open. 

First Tsurugi was propped against the far wall of his room. Sephiroth stood between it and Cloud. 

_I can’t sleep through your nightmares._

“Get out,” Cloud snapped. 

Sephiroth folded his arms and leaned against Cloud’s desk. Like the last time he was here, he wore only pajama pants, and there was a sense of tiredness around him which Cloud had the sick feeling was coming over their connection more than anything about his physical appearance. He didn’t say anything. 

“You’re supposed to be on tour,” Cloud managed.

“We got back an hour ago,” Sephiroth said. Cloud glanced at the clock - not quite midnight. Sephiroth added, “Neither Genesis nor I got any sleep the entire mission, thanks to the President’s paranoia.” 

“You won’t get any sleep here, either.”

“I told you, it’s still more restful than dealing with your nightmares.” 

Something snapped in Cloud’s chest, that _Sephiroth_ of all people could stand here and say that to him, Sephiroth who was responsible for everything that had happened to him, everyone who’d died in the last ten years of his life, all the pain and all the destruction and all the sorrow. Fists clenched, Cloud snarled, “If you didn’t want to deal with them, you shouldn’t have given them to me!” 

Green eyes narrowed. “Hojo is the one who gave you those nightmares,” Sephiroth said. “Hojo and a version of me which exists nowhere but in your memories.” 

_I will never be a memory._

The voice - the other Sephiroth’s voice, the madman who’d nearly killed him - was so real in his head that Cloud almost thought the Sephiroth in front of him was the one who’d said it. His blood ran cold and for a moment he was back there, atop the decrepit ShinRa tower, Masamune spearing him and Sephiroth smirking at him. Phantom pain lanced through his chest and he doubled over, fingers knotting in his shirt. 

Sephiroth whispered, “He impaled you.” 

Cloud flinched. Looked up. Sephiroth had one hand curled over his chest in the same spot as Cloud, his eyes wide. 

_Do you remember this pain, Cloud?_

Cloud almost laughed, was surprised when blood didn’t pool in his mouth. “Twice,” he said.

“I saw,” Sephiroth said. “In your nightmares, I saw that. But I thought—”

“It was _real!_ ” Cloud insisted. 

“I believe you,” Sephiroth said, but his tone was that same bland one he always used and it was so obvious that he _didn’t_ really believe - not the way he would have if he’d been the one with Masamune through his chest - that Cloud couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“You impaled me,” Cloud hissed. “All but killed me. You nearly killed Tifa and Zack. You killed my mom.” His voice rose to a shout with the words, but he couldn’t make himself care. “You burned down my village and killed everyone in it. You controlled me and almost made me kill—” remembering just in time not to say her name, not now, not when she was still alive— “my friend, and when that failed _you_ killed her instead. You almost _destroyed the planet!_ ” 

Sephiroth stared at him.

“It was _you_ ,” Cloud repeated. “ _You_ did that.”

“Another version of me,” Sephiroth protested, but for the first time, the bland voice cracked and Cloud heard doubt. 

“ _You_ ,” Cloud pressed. “You’re capable of that. Maybe it wasn’t you in this timeline, but in mine it _was_ you. You listened to Jenova, you called Meteor, you made Geostigma. It’s because of _you_ that Zack and I lost four years to Hojo. It’s because of you the Weapons woke up and Junon and Midgar were destroyed. It’s because of you Denzel almost died, and all those other kids. All of that because of _you!_ ”

Sephiroth shook his head, not in denial but in horror. His eyes were wide, and in the dark of the room his slit pupils looked almost round. Almost human. He didn’t say anything. 

Cloud didn’t, couldn’t, say anything either. He was breathing hard, as though he’d run for miles ( _fought Sephiroth again_ ), and he felt as though all the words had drained from him with that last outburst. He sagged against the wall behind him and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

“You promised,” Sephiroth said, “to kill me if I ever started down that path in this timeline.” 

“I will,” Cloud agreed tiredly. “I’ll kill you every time you come back. I’ll kill you every time you try.” 

Sephiroth nodded. For a moment Cloud saw the other Sephiroth, the insane one, superimposed over this one. _I will never be a memory._ But then the image was gone and only one Sephiroth stood in the room. He met Cloud’s eyes. “Jenova is gone,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m still here.”

“For now,” Cloud said.

“For now,” Sephiroth agreed. “But as long as I’m here - as long as you haven’t killed me - I’ve done none of that. Right?” 

It was Cloud’s turn to stare at him. Sephiroth met his gaze levelly, waiting. Still focused on the memory of Sephiroth, the one created out of mako energy and pure bitter willpower, Cloud was surprised to see him blink, to see his chest move slightly as he breathed. The Sephiroth he’d fought so many times since Nibelheim never showed even those faint signs of humanity. 

When Cloud didn’t say anything, Sephiroth continued, “I cannot undo what that alternate me did in your memories - in your timeline. But if I can prevent you from reliving it in your nightmares…” He trailed off with a slight twitch of his shoulder, an almost rueful shrug, his eyes still on Cloud. “Let me do that much. And if you won’t believe I would do it for a friend,” he added, and _there_ , there was that obnoxious smirk in the curl of his mouth, the gleam of his slit-pupiled eyes, “then at least believe I would do it for my own sake, so I can get some rest.” 

Cloud stared at him for a few more minutes, but Sephiroth had apparently said his piece and was now settling in for the night, shifting to more comfortably lean against the desk and tossing his hair out of his face. “I hate you,” Cloud muttered, but even he could admit there was less heat to it than usual. He slouched lower against the wall, folded his arms, and yawned. 

At least he’d gotten a few hours of sleep before Sephiroth showed up. 

* * *

Cloud snapped awake to the sound of his alarm. For a split second he was completely disoriented - he knew he shouldn't have been sleeping, but it wasn't until his eyes opened and he saw Sephiroth across the room that he remembered why.

Panic shot through him. He’d fallen asleep with _Sephiroth_ in the room. Sephiroth, who had nearly killed him, who had destroyed Nibelheim and killed Aeris— 

_As long as you haven’t killed me, I’ve done none of that._

Slowly the panic receded. Slowly Cloud remembered he was in the past, that Jenova and Hojo were gone and Sephiroth wasn't insane. In fact, he’d apparently been sleeping himself - he was slumped bonelessly against the desk, eyes closed, that stupid long hair hanging messily around his face. As Cloud's alarm continued to beep, he blinked blearily, rubbing a hand over his face as he yawned. Just like the last time he’d done this, he met Cloud's eyes, inclined his head, and swept wordlessly from the room.

Cloud stared after him. He still couldn't believe he’d _fallen asleep_ with Sephiroth in the room. He’d been tired, sure, but not the desperate kind of exhausted that could force a man to sleep even under dangerous circumstances. Yet he’d slept - and as best he could recall, slept nightmare-free.

Sephiroth’s voice echoed in his memory: _If I can prevent you from reliving it in your nightmares…_

Gaia, was that what had happened? Was it enough to know Sephiroth was right there, not somewhere out in the world murdering people, but right here sleeping in Cloud's room? …Not that that was much of a reassurance. Sephiroth had demonstrated quite thoroughly in the past - future? - that little things like buildings weren't enough to stop him. Still. If Sephiroth was here, Cloud could keep an eye on him. Could intervene the moment he suspected something was wrong. 

Maybe he could work with that.

His hand lifted to rub at the center of his chest, where the ghost of Masamune still made his skin itch. Or maybe he’d kill the man next time he barged in here without permission.


	8. Friendly Sparring Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and Cloud have a friendly sparring match.

Cloud showered, dressed, and headed down to the Briefing Room to wait for Noctis so they could depart on the day’s mission. When twenty minutes had passed and Noctis still hadn't arrived, Cloud pulled out his PHS to send him a message, only to find that Noctis had sent him one late last night: _Only one class on Tuesday. Gonna fill quota all at once. See you then._

Well, then. Noctis must have figured out what Cloud had when he'd first joined ShinRa: the mission system would just keep routing you missions no matter how many you did in a day. The missions Noctis had been doing so far were laughably easy; if he cut out the travel time to and from headquarters for each one, he could easily handle five in a day. 

Still, it meant Cloud had nothing to do, yet again. He wandered out of the Briefing Room up toward the First Class break room. If Sephiroth was back, Genesis would be, too, and Cloud wanted to ask him about Noctis’s uncanny casting speed with artificial materia. He was nearly there when voices caught his ear.

“—barely acknowledges me. He won't listen long enough for me to ask. And I have no right to ask him anything, anyway.”

Angeal. Talking about Cloud, from the sound of it. Cloud stopped in the hall outside the break room door, listening. 

“It's not as though you'd be asking him anything special,” Genesis said, in a tone that suggested he was rolling his eyes. “He wants to learn Mister Mystery Caelum’s secrets as much as the rest of us.”

“If you're so curious,” Angeal retorted, “you ask him.”

Cloud sighed and stepped around the door into the break room. “Ask me what?”

Genesis and Angeal looked up in surprise, plus the usual flash of guilt that crossed Angeal’s face whenever he saw Cloud. They were sitting together on the couch, but Genesis stood as Cloud entered and spread his arms wide in greeting.

“Cloud!” Genesis said. “We were just talking about our newest mystery recruit. Angeal was telling me how skilled Noctis is with a blade. He’s completely unfazed by anything Angeal can throw at him in the Thirds’ sparring classes.”

“He's a good fighter,” Cloud agreed cautiously. “What do you want?”

Angeal spoke up finally. “He's holding back. I’ve tried pushing him, but he can keep up with me easily enough that I can't get a reaction out of him.”

“But he's never seen _you_ fight, Cloud,” Genesis jumped in, finger stabbing dramatically in Cloud's direction. “Most importantly, he’s never seen your marvellous sword in action.”

Cloud got it abruptly. “You want me to try to surprise him.”

“Exactly!” Genesis grinned. “If we can get him to react on instinct, we can find out what he's holding back.”

“Risky,” Cloud said. 

Genesis snorted. “For you? Please.”

“For anyone else in the room,” Cloud corrected. “If we don't know what he's capable of, we don't know how dangerous he might be.”

“I’ll be there,” Angeal said. “If it looks like someone might get hurt, I’ll step in.”

Cloud's thoughts flickered to his first and only sparring match with Sephiroth, a year ago out in the wastes. Angeal had made the same offer then, and the injury he’d gotten when he’d stepped in was what had started his degradation and led everyone down the path that resulted in Cloud and Kunsel spending months being tortured in Hojo’s lab and Cloud very nearly falling into Jenova’s trap. From the look of guilt and shame that flashed across Angeal’s face, he remembered it, too. 

Genesis, however, either didn’t remember or - more likely - didn’t care. He slung an arm around Cloud’s shoulders. “Excellent! The sparring class is in the Training Room in an hour. We’ll see you there.” Then he let go, disappearing through the door with a casual wave. 

Despite everything, Cloud found himself trading a startled look with Angeal. 

“He has that effect on people,” Angeal said dryly.

Cloud just snorted.

* * *

An hour later, Cloud stepped into the Training Room to find Angeal presiding over a couple dozen Third Class SOLDIERs doing warm-up stretches. Genesis was there too, leaning against the wall reading _Loveless_ and occasionally calling out a correction to a Third’s stretching form. A curious murmur ran through the class when they spotted Cloud.

“We have a guest today,” Angeal said, cutting through the whispers. “I’m sure most of you are familiar with Commander Strife. He’s joining us to see how well you’re doing.” 

Another ripple of voices ricocheted around the room, excited and nervous, and Cloud tried not to look embarrassed. He knew he had a reputation among the other SOLDIERs as the man who could fight the legendary Sephiroth to a draw, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

Angeal clapped his hands sharply, drawing the class’s attention. “Line up against the wall, please. Oske, you’re up first.” 

A nervous young Third stepped out into the middle of the room. Angeal caught Cloud’s eye; Cloud nodded slightly. They didn’t want to look like they were singling out Noctis. Cloud could take on a few rookie Thirds in a vanilla fight first. He stood across from Oske, drew his sword, and inclined his head, letting the kid have the first strike. 

The match didn’t take long. Oske wasn’t bad, but he was slow and nervous enough about fighting Cloud that he tripped over his own feet. The next couple of fights weren’t any more interesting. After so much time fighting Sephiroth and the Remnants, not to mention the deadly-fast mako mutants and monsters he’d encountered in the course of running deliveries, sparring the Thirds was like fighting in molasses. Cloud did his best to be nice, not wanting to humiliate any of the kids, but none of the matches lasted more than a minute or two. 

Then Angeal called on Noctis. 

Noctis looked bored as he climbed to his feet and joined Cloud in the middle of the room, rolling his shoulders absently. But his grey eyes were sharp behind his bangs as he drew his broadsword and settled into a fighting stance. “Missed me that much, huh?” he teased. “Couldn’t wait for tomorrow when we’ll be out doing hunts again?” 

Cloud shrugged. “You seemed bored out there. Figured I’d give you something more interesting than pests to fight.” 

Noctis grinned, his face lighting up in a way that made him look much younger. “More interesting, huh? We’ll see about that.” He darted forward suddenly, broadsword slashing low. 

Cloud leaped over the slash and Noctis both, landing lightly behind him and spinning to swing First Tsurugi at Noctis’s head. But Noctis was already moving, hopping backward just enough to clear the swing and lunging forward again immediately. Cloud had to drop and roll to avoid the attack, unable to reverse First Tsurugi’s momentum fast enough to block. Noctis followed right on his heels, sword coming in high, and Cloud barely managed to swing his own sword around to catch the strike. 

They traded a few more blows, feeling each other out, but it was obvious this wasn’t going to be an easy match like the others. Cloud had known Noctis was fast and agile, but beyond that, Noctis clearly knew how to fight against a Buster-style weapon, staying close and using the momentum of the heavy blade to his advantage. 

Well, the whole reason Cloud was here was to surprise him. He let Noctis get close once more, deliberately leaving himself open to a swipe at his back - then, at the last second, split his sword and used the second, hollow blade to catch Noctis’s attack. 

Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth had all been caught flat-footed when Cloud had split his sword against them. Noctis barely blinked, already sliding away from the low sweep of Cloud’s right-hand blade even as he twisted his own sword around the hollow blade. Cloud let him knock the hollow blade out of his hand, and flipped the release on one of the smaller side blades, intending to split the sword again and come at Noctis’s unprotected back. 

But to his surprise, Noctis caught the hollow blade in his own left hand and flung his broadsword at Cloud like a spear, so fast it seemed almost to leave a trail of glittering sparks behind it. Cloud dodged, rolling to the side and coming up with the base blade in his right hand and the side blade in his left, but Noctis was already lunging at him with the hollow blade. 

Cloud caught the strike and retaliated, but Noctis twisted out of the way with the same agility he’d shown out on missions. The move let him sweep low across the floor where his broadsword had landed and he came up with a blade of his own in each hand. They fought like that for a few seconds, dual blades whirling and flashing, Noctis keeping up with Cloud’s speed as though it was nothing. 

And not just that. Cloud saw, now, what Angeal had meant about Noctis holding back. Several times he saw Noctis shift his weight, change the angle of his blade, as though about to make a move before switching last-second to something else. Those moments were Noctis’s weakest, as though he was deliberately forcing himself to make poor moves instead of whatever his first instinct was. Cloud tried again to switch things up, to act fast or unexpectedly, but nothing he did fazed Noctis in the slightest. 

In fact, Cloud was the one being repeatedly caught off-guard, simply because Noctis didn’t fight with any conventional style Cloud knew. He liked to throw his swords, which seemed to be related to whatever he was holding back because it was clearly an inefficient move, but he was good enough at it that it was still effective. He was as ambidextrous as Cloud, and had an annoying tendency to pick up any of the six pieces of First Tsurugi Cloud left behind to wield for a few seconds before throwing it. And he was acrobatic, leaping and darting around Cloud in a way that reminded him of Yuffie. 

Wanting to buy himself a moment of breathing room to come up with a plan, Cloud began warming up his Bolt materia. The Training Room was big enough that if he was careful, he could target the center of the space without risking the Thirds lining the walls. He’d blind himself for a second with the blast so close, but hopefully the light would stun Noctis for longer. 

He slashed First Tsurugi in a sweeping low arc to drive Noctis back, openly telegraphing the big upward swing he was about to do as a distraction, and cast Bolt. Lightning roared through the middle of the room, blinding bright, and Cloud swung his sword up to shield his eyes. For a second he thought he felt some kind of resistance on it, almost a push, but Noctis had been ten feet away on the other side of the bolt— 

The lighting faded. The center of the room was empty, Noctis nowhere to be seen. 

Cloud spun wildly, searching, only half-aware of the startled reactions of the Thirds as they, too, realized Noctis had vanished. Movement overhead caught Cloud’s eye, and he looked up just in time to see Noctis dropping onto him from above, sword pointed down— 

_black coat and silver blade falling, Cloud runs but he’s not fast enough, never fast enough and the blade slides through her chest and she falls limp_

He was moving before he even realized it, split swords flashing as he dove at Noctis. Noctis’s grey eyes went wide with surprise and his own broadsword darted with desperate speed to parry Cloud’s blows as he fell backward under the onslaught— 

“All right, that’s enough!” 

Angeal’s voice. 

Cloud blinked. 

Training Room, not the temple. Blue Third Class uniform, not a black coat. Grey eyes instead of green, black hair instead of silver. 

He backed off, disengaging from Noctis’s blade and nodding to end the match. Noctis lifted his own sword in a salute. “Good match,” he said, then dropped to sit on the floor with the other Thirds, one hand absently rubbing his lower back. He seemed barely out of breath.

Cloud nodded again, trying to get his racing heart under control. He went to lean on the wall beside Genesis, dimly aware of Angeal instructing a pair of Thirds to start a new match. Genesis watched him carefully, but Cloud waved him off. “I’m fine,” he said. Genesis could get awfully mother-chocobo when he got worried, and this was nothing. Just an old memory. 

Genesis studied him for another moment, but finally shrugged. “Impressive match,” he said quietly, under the sound of the Thirds battling. “Quite the unexpected move at the end.” 

“What did he do?” Cloud asked. “I didn’t see anything until he came down on top of me.” 

“He dodged _into_ your Bolt instead of away from it,” Genesis said. Awe colored his voice, remarkable since very few things impressed Genesis. “Came through the front of it, jumped off your upswing, and landed on the wall of all places.” He tilted his head toward a spot some twenty feet up the wall behind where Cloud had been standing; squinting, Cloud could just make out the narrow gouge in the wall where Noctis must have jammed his sword to hold on. 

“Huh,” Cloud murmured. He’d felt the kick off his blade, but hadn’t realized at the time what it was. “Impressive.”

“Very,” Genesis agreed.

A startled yell from the center of the room cut off their conversation: one of the Thirds had swept the legs out from beneath the other and ended the match with a sword point to the throat. Angeal dismissed them and called up the next pair. Forty-five minutes and several matches later, the class ended, the Thirds filing out in pairs and groups, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Several of them surrounded Noctis, congratulating him on his fight with Cloud; Noctis just ducked his head bashfully and grinned. 

Finally the room was empty except for Cloud, Genesis, and Angeal. Genesis said, “That was informative.” 

Angeal shook his head. “He was still holding back. I saw it.”

“We did learn something, though,” Cloud pointed out. “When I joined SOLDIER, I sparred Kunsel. He could barely keep up with me. Noctis kept up just fine.” Even in those last few seconds when Cloud had lost control, Noctis had been surprised - but hadn’t faltered. Had successfully defended himself even in the face of Cloud’s fury. 

“True,” Angeal admitted. 

“And he didn’t react at all to your sword,” Genesis said, sounding disappointed. “Are you sure he’s never seen you use it?” 

Cloud shrugged. He couldn’t think of anywhere Noctis might have seen him fight previously, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. 

“Come to think of it,” Angeal said slowly, “even before you split your sword, he had no trouble at all. He’s clearly had extensive practice fighting someone wielding a weapon that size.” 

“Has he fought Zack at all?” Genesis asked.

Angeal shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He reached back to touch the hilt of his own, standard-issue ShinRa broadsword. “And I’ve only sparred him with this.” 

“Cloud is the only other person who uses a sword like that, though,” Genesis said. “Where would Noctis have gotten such training?” 

“Good question,” Angeal said.

“I suspect we’ve only added to the mystery,” Genesis said. “Whoever and whatever Noctis is, whatever he’s capable of…” He shuddered. “I’m beginning to dread finding out.”


	9. Emergency in Rocket Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud gets a mission and Noctis is not a morning person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been meaning to post a few extra chapters to shrink my buffer a bit. Now seems like as good a time as any. <3

That night, Cloud dreamed of Aeris dying, over and over again, the silver blade sliding through her chest, the way she folded around it, the peace on her face despite the agony in his heart. 

Until a deep voice called his name, and then he slept; and when he woke up in the morning Sephiroth was leaning against his desk again.

* * *

“So,” Noctis said. “What was that about yesterday? You kinda… freaked out.” 

Cloud and Noctis were in the elevator on the way to Noctis’s first mission of the day. Cloud looked away, watching the numbers tick down to the ground floor. “Bad memories,” he said. “Sorry.” 

“Oh.” Noctis touched a hand to his lower back, the same place he’d been massaging after yesterday’s sparring match. “I know how that goes.” 

Cloud shrugged. The elevator doors opened to the building lobby and he led the way out, deliberately changing the subject. “Where’d you learn how to fight so well against a Buster sword?”

“My, uh… The guy who taught me how to fight,” Noctis said. “He uses a sword like that.” 

“Is he from Banora?” Cloud asked as they emerged onto the streets of Sector 4. Angeal had been the original owner of the Buster, and Angeal was from Banora; maybe it was some kind of heritage design. 

But Noctis shook his head. “His family is from… from the east. Like mine.” 

“The Mideel area?” 

Noctis started to answer, then stopped short, his attention caught by something off to one side between a pair of neat little penthouses. Following his gaze, Cloud saw a golden snout poking up over the edge of a fence. Noctis ran over, breaking into a delighted smile as a floppy-eared dog reared up to put its front paws on the fence. “Hey there,” Noctis murmured, offering a hand for the dog to sniff. “How are you, buddy?” 

The dog woofed and licked at Noctis’s hand, and Noctis began petting its ears. Cloud followed him over, amused, and leaned on the fence while Noctis cooed and fawned over the dog. After five minutes or so, Cloud cleared his throat pointedly. Noctis looked up, a flush of red coloring his cheeks. “Sorry,” he said. Giving the dog one last scratch behind the ears, he started walking again. 

It wasn’t until later, while he was watching Noctis dispatch yet another tangle of razorweed, that Cloud realized he’d never actually answered the question about where he was from.

* * *

Without Noctis to babysit, no missions or classes of his own, and Kunsel and Zack still out on their mission, Wednesday was yet another dull day. Cloud found himself drifting around the ShinRa building, aimless and unsure what to do with himself. Hojo was dead, Jenova’s remains destroyed. Sephiroth still needed watching, but that was a passive task: when the general wasn’t being paraded around the continent by the President as a reminder of ShinRa’s might, he was stuck in endless meetings about the future of the SOLDIER program. 

There was an irony there, Cloud knew; ShinRa executives and scientists dancing around the subject of Jenova and the truth of Sephiroth’s origins as though he hadn’t learned the whole story in Nibelheim months ago. But Sephiroth hadn’t told the Turks just how much he’d found out, and if the Turks suspected he knew more than he was letting on, they weren't saying - so everyone was playing a little game of _don’t say anything that might upset the super-soldier_. 

Sephiroth thought it was funny, his amusement leaking through their connection occasionally. Cloud could sense how much he enjoyed the word games, the challenge of seeing how far he could push the scientists and the Turks without revealing just how much he knew. It added a bit of interest to the otherwise painfully long and boring meetings. Cloud, on the other hand, was just nervous about the whole thing. Sephiroth _probably_ wouldn’t go insane from anything they’d say in one of those meetings, but then, no one had thought he would the first time around, either. But Cloud couldn’t _do_ anything about it, which left him with nothing to do at all. 

He was considering wandering down to visit the church again - even if Aerith wasn’t there, he could tend the flowers - when his PHS beeped. Flipping it open, he saw a request from Lazard to report to the Briefing Room immediately for a mission. 

Cloud frowned as he tucked the PHS away and headed for the elevator. Ever since that one dangerous meeting, most of a year ago when Lazard had casually suggested a coup against the President and Cloud had turned him down, Lazard had been strictly business with Cloud. But there wasn't any business to be had today that Cloud knew of. He thought about how Lazard had watched him last week after Noctis’s first mission. Was Lazard going to try suggesting sedition again? He knew the gist of what had happened in Nibelheim; did he think Cloud would be more open to joining him in a revolt after that?

But when Cloud reached the Briefing Room, Lazard was on his PHS, harried and waving an arm as he spoke. His expression turned relieved when he saw Cloud and he ended the call. “Commander, good, I’m glad I caught you,” he said. “We received an urgent request for help from Rocket Town, on the northwest coast of the West Continent. A pride of coeurls was spotted yesterday just outside the town. They’ve apparently taken over a partially-built barn on the town’s outskirts.”

He scooped a mission briefing packet from the table and handed it to Cloud. “This is yesterday’s report. The barn is intended as storage and operational facilities for ShinRa’s rocket program, so the presence of the coeurls has brought the program to a halt. We're getting the details into the mission system now, but considering the situation, we wanted to deploy someone right away.”

Cloud skimmed the packet. At least six coeurls had been spotted, which meant there were likely several more that hadn't been seen. Still… “Coeurls are usually handled by a team,” he said carefully. It was possible to fight coeurls solo - he’d done it before - but with how fast the beasts were, it was safest to have someone covering your back. Especially for a group this large.

“I know, but this is beyond the abilities of most Thirds, and we don't have enough Seconds available,” Lazard admitted. “The increase in monster activity near the reactors has stretched them thin. I’d like you to take Caelum with you - from what I've been hearing, he’s going to rival your ascension through the ranks. If he’s as qualified as everyone seems to think, this will be a good test for him.”

Cloud glanced up at Lazard. The director sighed, pushing his glasses back into place. “If I could spare Commander Rhapsodos or General Sephiroth, I would. But the President is…” He broke off, frowned, and tried again, in the stilted voice of someone attempting to avoid saying things they shouldn’t. “The President has requested that one of the two of them accompany him at all times, and both when he’s traveling. I could send Commander Hewley with you, but I understand you would prefer a different partner.” 

He wasn’t wrong about that. And if Lazard wanted to use this as an opportunity to see if Noctis was ready to be promoted to Second, it wasn’t a bad mission to choose. What was more intriguing was that comment about the President - but Cloud doubted Lazard would say anything further on that. Maybe he could ask Genesis later. He said to Lazard, “All right, I’ll do it.” 

“Good,” Lazard said, looking relieved. “Thank you. I’ve arranged a helicopter to leave in an hour. You’ll have to track Caelum down - I sent him a message at the same time I contacted you, but haven’t heard back yet.” 

Cloud nodded and left, heading down to the floor that housed the Third Class barracks. He might not know Noctis that well yet, but he knew enough to guess the man was likely to still be in his room. Sure enough, when he asked a Third hurrying through the hall where to find Noctis, the boy said dourly, “Just listen for the alarm clock. I don’t know how Salim hasn’t murdered him yet.” 

Salim must be Noctis’s bunkmate. Cloud found the bunk with the alarm blaring through the door and used his First Class access code to override the room’s lock. It was nearly ten AM, but the room was pitch-black thanks to the lack of windows, and even Cloud’s mako-enhanced vision could make out little more than a lump on the lower bunk. He flipped on the light, but if Noctis was under those blankets, he was so thoroughly buried that not even a lock of hair showed. 

Cloud turned off the alarm, then cautiously prodded the lump. “Noctis?”

His hand found a shoulder and he shook it, but got no response. He shook again, harder. Still nothing, so he tugged the blankets back until he found Noctis curled up underneath, face buried in the pillow. If Noctis noticed the sudden lack of covers, he gave no sign; if his chest hadn’t been rising and falling steadily Cloud would have worried he was dead. Apparently he hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Lazard a louder alarm wouldn’t help. 

A wash of homesickness rushed over Cloud as he shook Noctis again, harder - he’d used to wake up Denzel like this. Though unlike Noctis, Denzel usually at least showed _some_ sign of life by now. He kept shaking until Noctis stirred and made a vague unhappy noise. 

Encouraged, Cloud said, “Noctis. Wake up,” and nudged him again. 

Noctis groaned, one arm untucking from beneath him to flail blindly in Cloud’s direction. “Fuck _off_ , Specs!” 

Cloud caught the flailing arm and hauled on it, dragging Noctis half-upright. Only then did one grey eye slit open behind messy black hair. Noctis glared blearily at him, recognition finally dawning. “You’re not Specs.”

“No,” Cloud agreed. “We have a mission. We’re leaving in forty minutes.” 

Noctis yanked against Cloud’s grip on his arm, though he still wasn’t awake enough to be effective. “Lemme sleep,” he muttered. “I already did my five.” 

“Five is the _minimum_ ,” Cloud said. “You can do up to twenty every five days before they’ll stop you.” He pulled Noctis further upright, dragging him half off the bed and forcing Noctis to put a foot on the floor or dangle from Cloud’s grip on his arm. “Get dressed. I’ll meet you at the helicopter pad in thirty-five minutes.” 

Noctis whined - actually whined, a drawn-out nasal sound like a child - and didn’t move. Cloud hauled Noctis fully off the bed and shoved him toward the room’s tiny bathroom, waiting until Noctis staggered inside and the shower came on before leaving to head back upstairs. 

Forty minutes later, Cloud was waiting next to the empty helicopter, more than half expecting to have to go back downstairs to retrieve Noctis. But the elevator dinged and Noctis stepped out, followed by the Turk Reno. Noctis was awake, more or less, in uniform with his broadsword slung across his back alongside a standard-issue ShinRa trooper assault rifle.

“A gun?” Cloud asked, surprised, as Noctis approached. 

Noctis held up his PHS. “Mission briefing said coeurls,” he said around a yawn. “They’re too fast to fight at close range.” Cloud’s surprise must have shown on his face, because Noctis’s eyes narrowed. “Something wrong with guns?” he asked.

“No,” Cloud said. Noctis wasn’t wrong, exactly - the coeurls’ speed was exactly why ShinRa usually sent a whole team. “But SOLDIERs don’t normally use guns.” 

“The footsoldiers do,” Noctis pointed out. “And one of the best fighters I know uses guns.” 

Cloud shrugged. He didn’t really care what weapon Noctis used, as long as it was effective. Guns weren’t Cloud’s first choice against coeurls, but Noctis had demonstrated remarkable skill with a variety of blades. If he was as good with a gun as he was with swords, it should be fine.

Noctis threw a sharp glance at Reno, as if expecting him to comment, but Reno held up a hand lazily. “I’m with you,” he drawled, and flipped open his suit jacket to reveal the sleek black pistol tucked into a shoulder holster next to his truncheon. “Melee’s great ‘n all, but whatever tool you gotta use to get the job done, yo.”

“Exactly.” Noctis said. He brushed past Cloud and climbed into the helicopter. 

Reno followed, sliding into the pilot’s seat. “You comin’, Strife?” 

Cloud nodded. “Let’s go.”


	10. Shocking Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud and Noctis go coeurl hunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning for canon-typical violence (i.e., monsters getting beat up by guys with swords). 
> 
> Also, Eos doesn't appear to have - or have even considered - space flight. Which is weird when you think about how technologically advanced Insomnia is, but then, you probably can't shoot an orbit-capable rocket from the middle of a densely-populated city protected by a magic Wall, either.

Noctis slept nearly the entire ride to Rocket Town, which was a full twenty-four-hour flight in the helicopter, counting the stop in North Corel to refuel and let Reno get a few hours’ sleep himself. Cloud almost thought Noctis was faking being asleep to avoid having to make small talk - or avoid the probing questions about his history and training Cloud had intended to ask - but the couple of times Cloud had tried to get a reaction out of him, he hadn’t responded any more than when Cloud had first tried to wake him up that morning. 

He had no idea how Noctis could sleep that much and still be yawning and bleary-eyed when they climbed out of the helicopter onto a field just outside town, but at least the guy was on his feet. Reno led them across the field and into the town, which was far smaller than Cloud remembered - just a couple of houses, including Cid’s, plus several buildings which looked like offices or storehouses for the rocket program. The rocket itself towered in the distance behind Cid’s house, shiny and incomplete, a metal skeleton with its wires and tubes and tanks exposed to the elements. 

Noctis whistled as he spotted the rocket. “The hell’s that thing for?” he asked. 

“The President wants to send a guy into space,” Reno said with a shrug. “Dunno why, it ain’t like there’s much up there except dark and cold. But apparently that whole thing’s what it takes to launch someone into space.” 

“Huh,” Noctis said. His expression suggested he hadn’t ever considered spaceflight before, but then again, most people hadn’t. And if Cloud didn’t figure out how to warn Cid about the faulty oxygen tank before it forced him to abort the launch, no one else would. Maybe he could find a way to do that while he was here. 

But Reno didn’t lead them to Cid’s house - instead he went to one of the smaller side buildings and opened the door without bothering to knock. Several startled scientists looked up as they entered, but the surprise quickly changed to relief. One of the scientists, an older woman with steely hair and a nearsighted squint, rose from her seat at a desk and crossed to greet them. “I’m so glad you were able to get out here this quickly,” she said without preamble. “We need to start adding the plating to the frame within the next two days or we’ll have to strip it back down and redo the weathering for safety. But the materials for plating are all stored in the barn the coeurls took over.” 

Reno nodded lazily, as though he had any idea what she was talking about. “We got just the guys for you,” he said, and jerked a thumb at Cloud and Noctis. “Commander Cloud Strife, SOLDIER First, and Noctis Caelum, SOLDIER Third. They’ll wipe out those coeurls, yo.” 

Under his breath, Noctis muttered, “ _Lucis_ Caelum.” If Reno noticed, he gave no sign, but Cloud filed it away for reference. He’d been wondering how Noctis’s name worked - Noctis didn’t seem to mind being addressed as just “Caelum”, but clearly it bothered him not to have the “Lucis” part included in a more formal introduction. 

The woman didn’t seem to notice Noctis’s correction, either; she turned to Cloud and said, “Excellent. Please let me know if there is anything my team or I can do to assist.” 

“Just point us to the barn, ma’am,” Cloud said, “and stay inside.” 

“Of course.” She stepped around Cloud, half leaning out the door to point. “Follow this street to the edge of town. You’ll see the barn out there. It’s the third one out, the only one without sides. But be careful - the coeurls have been seen as close as the farthest houses.” 

Cloud nodded and glanced at Reno. “You staying here?”

“You’re the SOLDIERs, yo,” Reno said. “I’m just the chaperone.” 

Noctis snorted, his eyes glittering with amusement. Cloud couldn’t blame him - Reno wasn’t exactly anyone’s idea of a responsible adult. Or at least, he didn’t appear to be so. It was part of what made him so dangerous. 

Cloud shook his head and led the way back out of the building, Noctis trailing on his heels as he followed the woman’s directions out to the edge of town. Curtains flicked aside in the windows of the houses they passed, and a few curious children were bold enough to lean out to stare. Cloud and Noctis ignored them.

“Got a plan?” Noctis asked. 

“Kill them fast,” Cloud answered. “Magic slows them down, but doesn’t hurt them much, so don’t waste time on materia.” 

“Not even fire?” Noctis asked, then when Cloud shot him a curious look, added, “I thought coeurls didn’t like fire.” 

Cloud shrugged. “I never noticed a difference when I fought them before. They’ve shrugged off every element I’ve thrown at them. It’s best to go straight for swords.”

“Okay,” Noctis agreed. He swung his rifle off his shoulder and began checking it over, careful to keep it pointed at the ground. “Then you go in close, and I’ll cover you.” 

“Just don’t shoot me,” Cloud said. 

“Yes, sir,” Noctis answered, lazy sarcasm dripping from the words. 

They reached the outer edge of town, denoted by the end of the white picket fence that lined the road. From here, Cloud could see the half-finished barn, its corrugated steel roof poking up above a pair of nearer sheds. He couldn’t hear anything unusual, but coeurls were quiet beasts right up until they tried to kill you. In a low voice, he said to Noctis, “Get up on the rooftops. Try to get a clear line of fire.” 

Noctis nodded and slipped away along the side of the nearest shed, while Cloud kept walking along the road toward the barn. The dirt was too dry and packed to make out paw prints, but here and there he spotted tufts of pale yellow fur, or deep claw furrows. A low noise, an almost electric zap, caught his attention from somewhere behind the shed where Noctis had gone, and Cloud drew First Tsurugi and stepped forward, ready to provide backup if one of the beasts had snuck up on Noctis. But no coeurls appeared, and a moment later Noctis himself leaned over the edge of the roof, rifle in hand. He’d gotten up there remarkably fast - maybe there was a ladder or something. He waved an all-clear to Cloud, then gestured that he was going to get closer to the barn. 

Cloud nodded back and resumed his own walk forward. The sound he’d heard had probably just been something inside the shed, some bit of machinery for the rocket program. Time to focus on the coeurls ahead of him. He checked the materia slotted into his sword, making sure his Barrier was ready, and his Restore, too, just in case. Noctis had proven incredibly competent so far, but against this many coeurls, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. Satisfied, Cloud raised his sword and stepped around the last shed into full view of the half-built barn. 

The barn was long and low, little more than a corrugated roof held up by steel beams over a cement floor. Stacks of huge wooden crates, bales of rebar, and piles of steel plating lined the edges of the floor, with an open space in the center presumably for loading and unloading. Half a dozen coeurls were sprawled on top of the crates like oversized housecats. They lifted their heads at Cloud’s approach, their long whiskers floating deceptively lightly in the slight breeze, tips sparking with deadly magic. 

Cloud knew from experience that they wouldn’t attack without provocation, but they were also territorial - getting too close to the space they’d claimed would be more than enough. The way they were spread out around the barn, some of them a full ten feet up on top of stacks of crates, meant he’d be swarmed no matter which one he went for first. And coeurl prides were usually eight to ten animals, so there were likely several more somewhere he couldn’t see. He really should have arranged some kind of signal with Noctis - with this setup, it would be much better for Noctis to shoot first, to distract the beasts while Cloud closed on them. But he didn’t want to risk looking up on the roofs for Noctis now, and potentially giving away his position. 

A sudden gunshot rang through the air, and the coeurl perched on the highest crate jerked and died. Noctis had solved the problem by shooting it in the eye. The rest of the coeurls yowled in fury, leaping to their feet and focusing on Cloud, the only threat they could see.

Cloud didn't hesitate - he leapt in, First Tsurugi flashing as it sliced through the thick hide of the nearest beast. It twisted at the last second, and what should have been a fatal strike instead opened a bloody line along its flank. Another gunshot cracked nearby and a coeurl crouching to pounce on him fell dead. Cloud took down the one he’d struck, but then had to dodge into a narrow space between several stacks of crates as magic exploded around him, heat blasting his face and ice crackling on its heels. 

“Cloud!” Noctis yelled. “Look out!”

Cloud whipped around, squinting in the shadows behind the crates - just in time to spot the gleaming eyes of the biggest coeurl he’d ever seen. Its whiskers sparked and snapped and suddenly the air filled with lightning. 

Electricity raced along Cloud's bones, seizing his muscles and spiking agony through his body. He dropped to the ground, First Tsurugi falling from his grip. For an awful second he was back in Nibelheim, in Hojo’s lab, strapped to a table as the scientist electrocuted him and laughed— 

Then Noctis shouted his name again and he was back in the present, in a narrow gap between huge wooden storage crates, facing down a massive coeurl whose whiskers were already crackling with renewed power. 

Cloud scooped up his sword and flung himself free of the gap, half-crawling out into the open space between the crates and the wooden wall of the adjacent shed. Thank Odin, the giant coeurl didn’t follow him out; he didn’t think he would have been able to escape again. Electric surges still jolted along his limbs, making his motions jerky and unstable as he struggled to his feet. He glanced up, looking for Noctis on the roof of the shed, but it was empty. Only then did he register the sounds of a fight on the other side of the crates - growling and claws on concrete and battle cries. Cloud staggered around the crates and finally spotted Noctis, out in the center of the unfinished barn, ShinRa broadsword flashing as he fought the coeurls. 

The electric blast must have really done a number on Cloud - Noctis’s motion was a blur, bluish afterimages trailing behind him as he dodged and spun through the coeurls’ attacks. He spotted Cloud, relief flashing across his face before he had to drop low under the whiplike lash of a whisker. Cloud blinked furiously, scrubbing a hand over his eyes until the afterimages faded and his muscles quit spasming. He still took the extra precious second to cast a Restore on himself before raising First Tsurugi and diving back into the fight. 

Noctis had taken down two more of the beasts already, which meant he had a kill count of four to Cloud’s one. Cloud was hardly a competitive guy, but if he let _that_ stand, he’d never hear the end of it from the other Firsts. He split his sword, slicing through the pair of coeurls harrying Noctis from behind and giving the other SOLDIER a moment to breathe. Noctis had come in strong while Cloud was down, but he was clearly flagging now, moving more slowly and having trouble dodging the combination of magic and claws flying at him. Cloud leaped into the air, combining his swords once more and swinging the full weight of First Tsurugi onto the back of a coeurl about to take a bite out of Noctis’s arm. The creature screeched in agony as it fell to the ground, its spine severed; Cloud’s next swing took its head. 

“Thanks,” Noctis gasped, then, “Shit—” 

Cloud didn’t waste time turning to look; just flung up a Wall around them. The way Noctis’s eyes had widened was enough to tell him the big coeurl had finally reappeared. Another surge of electricity battered the Wall, tearing the protective magic to shreds and sending static tingles along Cloud’s arms as he spun around. The big coeurl sat at the open front of the barn, blocking the only way out that wasn’t over or through the crates. Two more coeurls, only slightly smaller, flanked the big one, their whiskers sparking. 

Noctis muttered, “The coeurl acquires charge from the particles in the air. If you see it seated on its haunches, stay back.” He sounded like he was reciting something, a touch of a strange accent coloring the words. 

Cloud nodded agreement. “The big one’s about to cast again. You take the one on the left.” 

“Got it,” Noctis said, just as the big coeurl’s whiskers lashed. 

Cloud called another Wall, bracing himself against the onslaught of electricity. Over the crackling he heard movement on the crates behind him - but even as he started to turn, Noctis leaped _over_ the Wall, over the lightning barrage, to land sword-first on the leftmost coeurl. Cloud swore under his breath and followed, charging through the last of the electric storm toward the big coeurl. Electricity sparked and crackled along his muscles and First Tsurugi’s edge; he gritted his teeth and pushed through it, splitting the sword as he reached the rightmost coeurl. 

Its whiskers snapped at him, but Cloud rolled low under them, driving the point of the hollow blade into the beast’s throat. It gurgled and died, and Cloud yanked the blade free in time to roll to the side, away from the swipe of claws as long as his hand. The big one was the only one remaining, and if they could just kill it before it was able to charge up another blast— 

Noctis appeared behind its haunches, sword swinging low to hamstring it even as it tried to spin on him. Cloud took the opening, his main blade plunging into its torso as the hollow blade took its head. The beast collapsed to the ground, the magic gathered in its whiskers fading to nothing and leaving the barn silent except for Cloud’s and Noctis’s panting breaths. 

* * *

“Mako mutants,” the steel-haired scientist said grimly as she handed Cloud a cup of hot tea. “We’re seeing them more and more lately, although normally they stay closer to the reactors.” 

“What’s a mako mutant?” Noctis asked. He sat next to Cloud at the rickety table in the scientists’ office, apparently none the worse for wear despite his mad dive _through_ a coeurl’s electric blast. Cloud remembered how Noctis had dived through his own Bolt spell during their spar a few days ago, and resolved to ask him what his trick was. 

“Beasts warped by overexposure to mako,” the scientist explained to Noctis. “Bigger, stronger, faster than normal monsters. ShinRa tries to keep the areas around each reactor clear of potentially dangerous fauna, but they can’t be everywhere.” 

“Plus, we’re seeing more natural mako fountains,” another scientist added. “I’m starting to wonder if AVALANCHE isn’t right after all, about us hurting the Planet—” He broke off with a hiss and the kind of wince that meant he’d been kicked under the table.

“AVALANCHE is a terrorist organization,” the steel-haired scientist said pointedly. She shot a sharp glance toward Reno where he was sprawled at a desk on the other side of the lab, seeming absorbed in reading something on his PHS. “Their proselytizing isn’t backed up by our research.” 

Cloud bit down hard on his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. Now was neither the time nor the place, not with Reno here, though he stole a glance at the second scientist’s name tag: _Govert Velner_. He’d have to come back here sometime soon, not just to talk to Cid about the rocket, but to encourage Velner’s interest in AVALANCHE’s work. 

A sudden chirp from Cloud’s pocket saved him from the awkward silence that descended over the table. He pulled out his PHS and flipped it open: a new message from “Treasure Princess”, aka Yuffie Kisaragi, the ten-year-old daughter and heir of Lord Godo of Wutai. Cloud had been trying to pay closer attention to her messages ever since he’d had to haul Yuffie out of the Northern Crater with a mated pair of blue dragons on their heels. She claimed not to appreciate his attempts to keep her alive - backed up by literal kicking and screaming every time he showed up to rescue her - but she kept sending him updates on her location anyway. 

Skimming the message, Cloud sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. He’d thought she’d finally started to listen to his admonishments to stick to less dangerous parts of the world; the last few times he’d had to rescue her it had been “only” from the wilds of the southern part of the West Continent. But she’d apparently made it back up to Modeoheim, and was planning to strike out for the Northern Crater _again._

“What’s wrong?” Noctis asked. 

Cloud sighed again. “It’s complicated. But… would you mind if we ran an errand before going back to Midgar?” 

“What for?” Noctis tilted his head, clearly trying to get a look at Cloud’s PHS. 

Cloud tossed it to him to let him read the message, then raised his voice. “Reno?” 

“An errand to where?” Reno asked, proving he’d been paying more attention to the conversation at the table than he’d been letting on. 

“Modeoheim.”

Reno lifted his head, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “What’s up there?” 

“Yuffie Kisaragi.” 

Reno’s other eyebrow joined the first and he sat up straighter. “Isn’t that the princess of Wutai?” 

Noctis’s head came up sharply, grey eyes flicking between Reno and Cloud. Cloud just nodded. “Do you guys mind?” 

Reno shrugged. “Whatever, yo. I don’t have anything pressing back home.” 

“Sure,” Noctis agreed. “Do you want to go now?” 

Cloud nodded again, setting his empty tea mug on the table and rising to his feet. “The sooner the better. She’s only ten, but you’d be surprised how much trouble she can get into.”


	11. Yuffie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and Yuffie make a bet.

Cloud had expected Noctis to go back to sleep for the eight-hour helicopter ride to Modeoheim, but to his surprise, Noctis stayed awake, slouched in his seat with a grimly pensive look on his face. Finally Reno said over the built-in radio in their headsets, “Yo, Caelum. Gil for your thoughts? You look like you’re trying to glare a hole through the windshield.” 

“It’s nothing,” Noctis said. He sounded bored, but his expression didn’t change. 

“Sure,” Reno drawled. “C’mon, what is it? You’re giving me the creeps, yo.” 

It was easy to forget Reno was a Turk, trained to read even the most minute body language. Cloud turned to study Noctis more closely, trying to see whatever Reno had picked up on. For a second, Noctis's grim expression gave way to exasperation, but then he slouched further in his seat and muttered, “This kid we’re going to find.” 

His voice was barely audible over the sound of the helicopter's motor and whirring blades, even with the headsets they were all wearing and Cloud’s SOLDIER hearing. Cloud said, “What about her?”

“She’s the princess of Wutai, right?” Noctis asked. 

“Yeah,” Cloud agreed. 

“Wutai,” Noctis repeated. “The country ShinRa recently conquered.” There was a bitter edge to his voice and Cloud winced; he saw where Noctis was going with this now. Before he could say anything, Noctis continued, “And we’re going to ‘help’ her?” 

“It’s not like that,” Cloud said. “I met her during the Wutai War, before I joined SOLDIER. She’s a friend.” 

“You said she’s _ten_.” 

Cloud sighed. “If she didn’t want me coming to help her, she wouldn’t email me about what she’s doing.” 

“Which is what, exactly?”

“She’s running away to look for materia,” Cloud explained. “She thinks she can find something powerful enough to throw ShinRa out of Wutai. Speaking of which, keep your materia hidden around her - she’ll steal it out from under you if you’re not careful.” 

Noctis raised an eyebrow. “What do you do with her after you find her?”

“Take her back home,” Cloud said. “To her father in Wutai.” 

“That all?” Noctis’s voice had gone unsettlingly mild.

Cloud frowned. “Try to talk some sense into her?”

Noctis’s expression didn't change, grim and cold as he stared at Cloud - and then Cloud realized what Noctis had _actually_ been getting at. “Gaia, did you think—” he yelped. “She's a _kid!_ ” 

“I know what conquerors do to the conquered,” Noctis said bitterly. 

“I told you, we're not monsters,” Cloud snapped. The accusation implicit in Noctis's words made his gut twist. “Yuffie’s a friend. I’m trying to keep her from getting killed on one of these stupid ‘adventures’ she won't quit going on. That's all.”

Noctis stared at him for a minute longer, then abruptly snorted and slouched back in his seat. Up in the front of the chopper, Reno relaxed ever so slightly, his expression sliding from _Turk_ back to _playboy_ in a way he wasn't usually so blatant about - or maybe, ten years in the past, he wasn’t as good at hiding it yet. Either way, he’d clearly been worried that Noctis was going to start a fight six thousand feet in the air. But Noctis didn’t say anything else. Eventually he propped his head on his fist, his eyes drifting shut; some time after that, his breathing slowed and deepened - he’d fallen asleep once more. 

Only after he was clearly and completely out, did Reno turn around in his seat and raise an eyebrow at Cloud. But Cloud shook his head. The SOLDIER Firsts had already eliminated the possibility of Noctis being from Wutai himself - anyone from Wutai would’ve known who Genesis and Sephiroth were. It was possible Noctis was lying about not recognizing them, but from what he’d seen so far, Cloud didn’t think he was that good of a liar. 

No, Noctis probably wasn’t from Wutai. But maybe he was from one of the many other small villages and settlements ShinRa had claimed ownership of over the years. He’d avoided the question of where he was from - had his hometown been destroyed? ShinRa hadn’t exactly been gentle in its global takeover; Wutai wasn’t the only nation which had suffered. 

Noctis’s bitterness about ShinRa’s conquering nature wasn’t an answer, but it was one more clue to who he was. Now they just needed the rest.

* * *

Modeoheim was cold, as usual, and Cloud shivered as he trudged down into the ravine toward the abandoned mako reactor there. Annoyingly, Noctis didn’t appear to be bothered by the cold; he walked beside Cloud with the same grim, faraway expression he’d had earlier. Reno, evidencing better judgement than he normally pretended to have, had opted to wait in the helicopter where it was warm. 

Cloud kept an eye on Noctis as they plodded through the snowdrifts, but Noctis was studiously ignoring him in that way he sometimes did that made it seem as though he didn’t consider Cloud a person at all. He was probably still upset about the conversation in the chopper earlier, though Cloud had no idea what to do about it. It wasn’t as though Noctis was completely wrong: ShinRa had violently conquered the entire globe, crushing anyone who stood in its way. But the implication that they’d hurt kids like that - that _Cloud_ would hurt kids like that - made him sick. 

Still, any argument Cloud came up with in his head sounded hollow. Noctis had been at ShinRa almost a month now, had been around the entire SOLDIER department and gotten to know the people there. If that hadn’t been enough to at least convince him... 

Lost in thought, Cloud’s first indication something was wrong was Noctis’s startled, “ _Shit—!”_ The next clue was the low rumble in the distance that was rapidly becoming a loud rumble under his feet. Snapping his head up, Cloud spotted the avalanche half a mile further along the ravine and broke into a sprint with Noctis on his heels. They skidded along the roiling snow, angling upward to try to get above the avalanche, but the entire cliffside was giving way and it was all they could do to control their slide down to the bottom of the ravine. 

“Yuffie!” Cloud shouted. The fact that she’d been the one to start the avalanche was all but a given. “ _Yuffie!_ ”

His mako-enhanced hearing caught a wild shriek from somewhere up ahead, and he angled toward it, fighting through the last of the tumbling snow. Noctis stayed close, his breath puffing out in little clouds around his head. Finally Cloud spotted a dark shape buried in the snow. He dug in, his hand closing around a fold of heavy wool, and yanked. Yuffie emerged spitting and gasping, and flailed in midair for a few seconds before she recognized him. 

“Oh, it's _you,_ ” she said, with all the haughtiness a ten-year-old could muster while dangling two feet off the ground by the back of her jacket. 

“You're welcome,” Cloud said dryly. He set her on her feet but didn't let go of her jacket - wisely, because the moment her feet touched the ground, she tried to run away.

“I was fine!” she informed him loftily when it became evident she wasn’t going anywhere. “I meant to do that.”

Cloud raised an eyebrow at her. She managed to glare back for all of three seconds before noticing Noctis, standing at Cloud’s shoulder. “Who’s that?” she demanded, then to Noctis directly, “Who are you?” 

“My name is Noctis Lucis Caelum,” Noctis answered, his tone polite, almost formal. He bowed to her, and that, too, was weirdly formal - a bow from the hips, like a _Loveless_ actor playing the king. “It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness.” 

Yuffie’s eyes narrowed. “Are you making fun of me?” 

Noctis straightened, as casually as though that bow was an everyday thing for him. “No. Cloud told me you’re a princess.” 

“I _am_ a princess,” Yuffie said. This seemed to remind her about such princess-y things as manners, because she bowed back. She didn’t manage Noctis’s easy grace, not only because Cloud was still holding her by the jacket but also because she was ten and clearly less practiced than he was, but it was passable. “Nice to meet you, I guess. Are you a SOLDIER?” 

Noctis nodded. “For the moment.” Ignoring the sharp look Cloud shot him, he added to Yuffie, “Cloud said you’re a friend of his?” 

“No,” Yuffie huffed, and twisted in Cloud’s grip to aim a kick at his knee. Practice - and longer arms - let Cloud dodge without releasing her jacket. “He’s a big meanie and I hate him.” 

“Why’s that?” Noctis asked. His tone was deceptively mild again, but his stormcloud eyes were fixed on Yuffie. 

“It’s _his_ fault ShinRa took over my country,” she snapped. “His fault my dad _surrendered._ ” She bit off the word like it was foul.

Cloud sighed and, anticipating Noctis’s next question, said, “I told you, I met her before I joined SOLDIER. Lord Godo tried to recruit me to Wutai’s side of the war. I told him that even if I did help him, they’d lose. Wutai’s ninja couldn’t win against SOLDIER, not even with my help.” 

“You’re _wrong_!” Yuffie snarled. “We would’ve won if my dad wasn’t such a _coward!_ ” She tried again to kick Cloud, with both feet this time, using his grip on her jacket for support. “But _you_ said we’d lose and that _scared_ him and he rolled over like a yellow-bellied swamp slug!” 

“You _would_ have lost,” Cloud said flatly. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Noctis’s expression had gone utterly blank, cold and distant and unreadable as steel. Something in Yuffie’s words was resonating with him - and not in a good way. Trying to steer the conversation away, he said, “Look, if your dad _hadn’t_ surrendered, ShinRa would have killed a lot more of your fighters than they did. As it is, you have enough warriors left to put up a real rebellion.” It was a bit of a risk - technically Noctis was ShinRa and Cloud suggesting rebellion to a princess of Wutai could be considered treason - but given how he’d reacted to things so far, Cloud wasn’t terribly worried. 

Yuffie folded her arms across her chest in a huff, dangling from his grip on her jacket with a scowl. “And I’m gonna, too. You just wait. I’m gonna find the biggest and best materia and I’m gonna _kick your ass!_ ” 

“Right,” Cloud said, and didn’t bother to hide the weariness in his voice. “But first, we’re taking you home. It’s dangerous out here.” Yuffie immediately shrieked in protest and began kicking and punching at him again. Taking a deep breath, Cloud braced himself to dive into the whirlwind in order to throw her over his shoulder. 

“Hey, Highness,” Noctis said. 

Cloud blinked, turning to look at him. That terrifying blankness was gone and Noctis was looking down at Yuffie with a smile. 

Yuffie, apparently caught as off-guard as Cloud, stopped fighting and frowned up at him. “What?” 

“Do you want to make a deal?” Noctis asked. “Princess to…” The slightest of pauses, so small Cloud wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it. “SOLDIER.” 

Yuffie’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “...What kind of deal?” 

“You want materia, right?” Noctis said. He crouched down to be at her eye level, producing his Thunder materia from a pocket and holding it up for her to see.

“Yeah,” Yuffie said. Her eyes were already locked onto the little green sphere. 

“Okay,” Noctis said. “I’m going to put this here—” slotting the materia into his bracer as he spoke. “If you can steal it from me, _and_ you still have it after we drop you off in Wutai and get back on the helicopter to leave, then Cloud and I - and everyone from ShinRa - will leave you alone for three whole months.” 

Yuffie’s eyes lit up. Cloud opened his mouth to protest - that was a _terrible_ idea - but Noctis raised two fingers in a gesture that managed to be both subtle and so imperious that Cloud shut up without meaning to. Noctis continued, as if Cloud’s attempt to interrupt hadn’t happened, “But if _I_ have this materia when we get back on the helicopter to leave, then you have to stay home and listen to your dad for three months. _Listen_ , too - ask him why he surrendered, and really listen when he answers. Deal?” 

“Deal!” Yuffie bounced with delight and looked up at Cloud. “Hah! You’re gonna have to leave me alone! I’ll have plenty of time to find _all_ the materia I need!” 

Cloud clapped a hand over his eyes and dragged it down his face. To Noctis, he said, “I’m not letting you give a _ten-year-old_ a Thunder materia.”

Noctis stood up from his crouch, his knees popping. “A deal’s a deal,” he said mildly. “If she wins it, she gets it.” 

“Hah!” Yuffie crowed again. “Come on, let’s go. I have materia to steal.” 

* * *

Thankfully, they made it back to the helicopter without incident. Yuffie didn’t even try to run away again, apparently too excited at the prospect of stealing Noctis’s materia to protest being taken back to Wutai. She and Noctis spent the first few hours of the nine-hour flight talking - or rather, Noctis asked questions about Wutai and ninjutsu that kept Yuffie chattering nonstop, right up until she fell asleep against Noctis’s side, curled up like a puppy on the seat. Noctis likewise fell asleep almost immediately after, and Cloud quickly stood up, intending to take the materia from Noctis’s bracer himself so Yuffie couldn’t. 

Except she already had - Noctis’s bracer was empty. Cloud sighed and sank back into his own seat, scrubbing a hand over his face. He didn’t even want to _think_ about what Yuffie could get up to with a promise of three months’ non-interference from ShinRa.

* * *

It was midmorning when Reno negotiated the helicopter to a tight landing in a small clearing just outside Wutai Village. The landing jolted Yuffie awake; she jerked upright and snapped into a fighting stance for a moment before apparently remembering where she was and why. Despite his dread at a ten-year-old Treasure Princess with a Thunder materia, Cloud couldn’t help but notice that her form had markedly improved in the nearly two years since he’d first met her in the past. She was well on her way to becoming the deadly fighter he’d known in his timeline. 

But then her eyes landed on Noctis - only just stirring and mumbling under his breath - and she flashed a positively _feral_ smile. Slipping a hand into her pocket, she held up Noctis’s materia at Cloud. “You have to leave me alone now,” she said merrily, and ran out of the helicopter.

Cloud sighed yet again and followed her, leaving Noctis to stagger after them with Reno bringing up the rear. A group of wary, not-quite-hostile Wutai had emerged from the village to ogle the helicopter and murmur quietly amongst themselves, and after a moment Cloud spotted Lord Godo himself crossing an arched bridge to join them. He was surrounded by a group of advisors and Crimson Elite guards, but he shoved them aside and darted forward when he spotted Yuffie. 

“My daughter!” he called, and scooped her into an embrace. “Where have you _been?!_ We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“I went to the north continent,” Yuffie said proudly, and wiggled out of his grip to hold up the Thunder materia. “I’m getting us materia! So we can kick ShinRa out!”

The crowd of Wutai went dead silent at that, faces paling as they turned in unison to look at the very obvious ShinRa SOLDIERs standing behind Yuffie, plus Reno, who was clearly wearing the black suit of a Turk. Cloud waved a hand, trying to defuse the tension. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s not…” He trailed off, not sure what to say. 

To his surprise, Noctis stepped up beside him. All traces of the sleepy brat had vanished; only a calm, composed man remained as he dipped into the same formal bow he’d used on Yuffie. “We take no offense to the words of an excited child,” he said easily. “We’re glad to see such spirit in Wutai’s youth.” 

Cloud stared at him. Those lines wouldn’t have been out of place in Rufus freaking ShinRa’s butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-it mouth; Cloud would never have expected Noctis to pull out anything like that. From Reno’s shocked look, he hadn’t, either. 

Noctis ignored them both, straightening from his bow and meeting Godo’s eyes. “I am Noctis Lucis Caelum,” he said. “You must be Lord Godo.”

Lord Godo, who had for a moment looked as surprised as Cloud felt at Noctis’s words, quickly smoothed his expression into one of blank politeness. “I am,” he agreed. There was the slightest of pauses, and Cloud was no diplomat but he knew full well that this was the point where Godo was supposed to say something welcoming. But for all Yuffie called him a coward, Godo was a wise man and a proud one. He would not directly insult them, but neither would he stoop to extending welcome to his country’s conquerors.

Noctis, though, filled the pause as smoothly as he’d addressed Yuffie’s outburst. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately we can’t stay long. If you’ll allow us to impose upon your hospitality long enough to refuel…”

“Of course,” Lord Godo said, and Cloud thought he looked relieved. “If there’s anything I or my people can do to assist your preparations, please let us know.” 

Reno snorted. “Just stay clear, yo. Won’t take long.” 

Godo inclined his head and gestured for his people to follow him as he retreated a polite distance from the helicopter. With Reno supervising, Cloud and Noctis refilled the chopper’s fuel tanks from the onboard reserves. When they’d finished and Reno had climbed back into the pilot’s seat to start the pre-flight checklist, Lord Godo approached once more, his advisors and Yuffie in tow. 

“We’re grateful for your hospitality,” Noctis said to him with another of those deep bows. 

Godo bowed back. “Thank you once again for bringing my daughter home safely. I will see she no longer disturbs you.” 

“You don’t have to!” Yuffie piped up proudly. “They aren’t going to bother me for three whole months!” 

Godo raised his brows at her. “What makes you say that?” 

“I made a deal!” Yuffie said. 

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed. His tone was mild, but there was a sparkle in his eyes. “But I think the deal is that you don’t go on adventures for three months.” 

“No way!” Yuffie said. She plunged a hand into her pocket. “I got the mater—No! Where’d it go?!” She scrambled through her pockets, tugging them inside-out, searching for the materia she’d stolen from Noctis. “I _had_ it!” 

“The deal was that if you still had it when we got on the helicopter to go home, we wouldn’t bother you for three months,” Noctis said. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out his Thunder materia. Yuffie gaped. Not that Cloud could blame her; he had no idea when or how Noctis could have possibly gotten it back from her. 

Noctis continued, “But if _I_ have it, which I do, you have to stay home for three months and listen to your father.” 

“That’s not _fair!_ ” Yuffie shrieked. 

She lunged at Noctis, but he sidestepped lightly, then knelt in front of her, looking up at her through the fringe of his hair. “Your Highness,” he said, and somehow his voice commanded attention even though he was speaking quietly. “Can I tell you something my dad taught me?”

Yuffie hesitated, studying him with suspicious eyes. “What?” 

“He told me…” Noctis paused, taking a deep breath; Cloud thought his shoulders trembled. “He told me that you have to push forward, always, accepting the consequences and never looking back.” 

Her frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

“It means you do what you agreed to,” Noctis said. “You make the most of whatever happens, and you keep moving forward.”

“I can’t move forward if I’m stuck here,” Yuffie said, in the tone of a ten-year-old spotting a loophole. 

But Noctis just smiled. “I bet if you ask your dad, he can teach you a lot. There’s more to being strong than just being able to fight well.” 

“He’s a coward,” Yuffie spat. “What am I gonna learn from _him?_ ” 

“Is he a coward?” Noctis asked softly. “Or was he wise enough to make the only choice he could to save as many of his people as he could? Including you,” he added when Yuffie opened her mouth to protest. “Ask him. See what he has to say. That was the deal, remember?” 

“ _Fine_ ,” Yuffie huffed. She folded her arms across her chest, still scowling. 

“And who knows,” Noctis added. “In three months, maybe we’ll meet again.” 

“In three months, I’m gonna come steal _all_ your materia,” Yuffie said, then turned to Cloud and stuck out her tongue. “And this time I won’t let you catch me!” 

Cloud couldn’t help smiling at that. “You’re on,” he said.

Noctis turned back to Lord Godo and bowed once more. “With Your Majesty’s permission, we’ll take our leave.” 

Godo nodded regally, and Noctis turned, sweeping into the helicopter. Cloud found himself following, drawn as inexorably as if Noctis had used a Graviga spell. Reno wasted no time starting the engines and taking off. The chopper rose rapidly into the sky, leaving Wutai and Yuffie behind. 

When they reached cruising altitude, Reno yawned and stretched, then twisted in his seat to look at Noctis. “Quite the show you put on back there,” he said casually. “Didn’t figure you for the type to know how to talk to a former emperor, yo.” 

Noctis shrugged, slouching lower into his seat. “It’s just manners,” he mumbled, barely audible over the radio. 

“Pretty fancy manners,” Reno said. “You been to Wutai before, or what?” 

Noctis shook his head. “First time.” He glanced at Cloud. “You think she’ll actually do it?” 

It took Cloud a second to realize he meant Yuffie. “No idea,” he admitted. “She’s… really headstrong.” 

Noctis chuckled. “Well, hopefully it buys you at least a month or two.”

“Be nice not to have to go haring off like this every time Strife gets an email,” Reno agreed. “But maybe next time, try to keep the kid in line with a little less sedition, yeah?” 

“Is ShinRa afraid of a ten-year-old?” Noctis asked dryly. 

Reno laughed. “Hardly, yo. But she ain’t the only one listening.” 

“Point taken,” Noctis said. He folded his arms and closed his eyes. “Wake me up when we’re somewhere that has food.” 

His breathing deepened almost immediately into sleep, and Cloud sighed. Noctis’s ability to pass out at the drop of a hat was a remarkably effective tactic to avoid questions. But Cloud wasn’t sure what to ask, anyway - it was hardly a crime to have manners worthy of a Wutai court. And while Noctis clearly didn’t like ShinRa’s conquering nature, well, that sentiment wasn’t exactly uncommon. 

Lazard had asked Cloud to try to learn more about Noctis as they went on missions together, but everything Cloud learned just raised new questions. Well, there was nothing for it but to keep trying - and be ready just in case Noctis’s secrets turned out to be deadly.


	12. New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud gets a welcome-back gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cloud and Kunsel are the dictionary definition of moirails, change my mind.
> 
> (spoiler: you can’t)

“Cloud!” Kunsel called. “Welcome back!” 

Cloud turned to see Kunsel jogging up the barracks hallway. “Hey. I thought you would be asleep.” 

It was late Sunday night; Cloud and the others had gotten back half an hour or so ago. While Noctis had headed straight for the Thirds’ bunks, Cloud had stopped by his office to file a mission report. He’d been heading back to his own bunk, but now Kunsel caught him by the arm. “I heard you’d be back tonight,” Kunsel said, “and we, uh.” He rubbed the back of his neck under the helmet; Cloud couldn’t see his face but he sounded almost shy. 

“You what?” Cloud asked.

“We have a surprise for you,” Kunsel blurted. “Zack and Genesis and me. C’mon.” He tugged Cloud’s arm, leading him back toward the elevators.

Cloud let him, not sure if he should be bemused or concerned, right up until Kunsel pushed the button for the floor where Sephiroth’s apartment was. Technically Genesis and Angeal had apartments on the same floor, but Cloud had had that entire floor marked off-limits in his mental map of the building from the day he got there. “Where are we going?” 

“Just wait,” Kunsel said. 

Cloud frowned, taking a moment to focus on his connection to Sephiroth - but the man was somewhere in the office blocks, probably working late again. “Sephiroth’s not involved?” 

“Not directly,” Kunsel said. “Technically as the general he had to approve this, but his part was just routine paperwork.” 

The elevator dinged, opening onto an elegant hallway that looked more like a luxury hotel than military housing. Kunsel led Cloud to the right, passing a couple of doors on either side of the hall before stopping at another door at the very end. Pulling a key card from his pocket, Kunsel tapped it against the door lock, then as the door slid aside with a hiss, waved Cloud ahead of him into the room. 

Cloud had an instant to register the room - easily three times the size of his barracks room, with silver-grey carpet thick enough to lose toes in, a sleek white leather wraparound couch, glass-and-steel end tables, and floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall opposite the door - before Genesis and Zack jumped into view. “Surprise!” they chorused.

From behind Cloud, Kunsel added, “Welcome to your new apartment.” 

“What?” Cloud said.

“C’mon,” Zack said, bounding over to catch Cloud by the arm and pull him deeper into the apartment. “Take a look around! Kunsel brought up all your stuff already so you can settle right in - we figured you’d be tired after that mission.” 

Cloud stared at him, then over his shoulder at Kunsel, and finally at Genesis, who’d taken up a studiously casual pose beside the huge window. “Why?” 

It wasn’t especially coherent, though Cloud would rather blame the long hours of travel than the unexpected emotion that tightened his throat. Fortunately, Genesis knew what he was trying to ask, and said lightly, “There are many benefits to being a SOLDIER First Class. A private suite is one of them.”

“You should have moved up here when you made First last year,” Kunsel added, “but you were promoted faster than anyone expected, and the rest of the suites hadn’t been finished. Then, well…” 

“Hojo happened,” Zack said, and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“I’ve been on Lazard’s case ever since you got back,” Genesis said airily, as though Cloud had simply been on a long vacation rather than trapped in a mad scientist’s lab. “It’s ridiculous that you’ve been stuck in that tiny closet downstairs.” 

“I’m next door on the right,” Kunsel said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the hall. “Zack’s on the left.” Genesis sniffed, probably disappointed that he hadn’t managed to get Cloud next door to his own apartment, but this layout meant Cloud was as far away from Sephiroth as he could be while still being on the same floor. 

“...Oh,” Cloud said. He looked around, taking in the rest of the space. A large kitchenette was separated from the main room by a marble-topped bar complete with tall stools. On top of the bar sat a glass vase full of familiar white and yellow flowers, which he realized with a jolt must have been sent by Aeris. On the opposite wall, a door led into what was presumably the bedroom; through it he could see a huge bed, flanked by more floor-to-ceiling windows lined with curtains. He hadn’t lived somewhere this spacious since he’d left his mother’s house as a child, and he’d never lived anywhere half as fancy. “It’s…”

“Great,” Zack supplied. He slung an arm around Cloud’s shoulder and shook him lightly. “It’s great, buddy. That’s the word you’re looking for.” 

His enthusiasm was catching, and Cloud smiled despite himself. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.” 

“Excellent!” Genesis clapped his hands together, as though Cloud’s agreement was a sign. “I brought you a housewarming gift. Let’s crack it open!” 

Genesis’s housewarming gift turned out to be a bottle of expensive scotch and a box of fine chocolates from Mideel, which the four of them split around the kitchen bar. As they drank, Cloud told them all about the mission to Rocket Town and the subsequent detour to rescue Yuffie, as well as Noctis Lucis Caelum’s odd behavior, his unexpected diplomatic prowess, and his bet with Yuffie.

“I still don’t know how he did it,” Cloud admitted. 

“A Steal materia?” Zack suggested, and spun his bar stool around thoughtfully.

Cloud shook his head. “He doesn’t have one.” 

“That we know of,” Genesis said. “I still think he has more materia than he’s letting on.” He leaned across Cloud to pour Kunsel another finger of scotch. 

“He claimed he’d never used it before, though,” Cloud pointed out. 

“He’s lying, then,” Genesis said, with a definitive nod. “Probably lying about never having been to Wutai, either, if he can deal that effectively with them.” 

“But why?” Zack asked. “Why lie about all that?” 

“Maybe he’s a Wutai ninja trying to infiltrate ShinRa,” Genesis suggested.

“Assassination?” Kunsel said. “But who? He’s not exactly well-positioned to get at the President.”

“What about Genesis?” Zack suggested. “The Hero of Wutai.”

Kunsel shook his head. “Trying to assassinate Genesis, here, would be a death sentence.”

Genesis shrugged. “Ninja are patient. He might be waiting for a shot at the President, or he may even be hoping to get paired with me on an assignment where an ‘accident’ could happen.” 

Kunsel nudged Cloud with an elbow. “You said he was really upset about the whole, uh, ShinRa conquering thing.” 

Cloud nodded. “Enough to spook Reno.” 

Zack’s eyebrows shot up. “Spook a Turk? That’s something.” 

“Something unsettling, certainly,” Genesis said. “We’ll have to be very careful.”

“As long as it’s not another crazy time travel, mutant monsters, end of the world story,” Zack teased, and leaned across the bar to poke Cloud in the arm. “I don’t wanna go grey before I turn twenty.” 

* * *

It was nearly two in the morning before Genesis and Zack finally admitted exhaustion and headed back to their own rooms to sleep. Kunsel stayed, watching from behind the visor of his ever-present helmet as Cloud explored the bedroom. The place was huge, the bed luxuriously wide and soft, the floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a gorgeous view of Upper Midgar at night. A discreet sliding door in the glass opened onto a small balcony; if Cloud was feeling more adventurous he could step outside and feel the wind on his face from hundreds of feet in the air. 

As it was, he pulled the heavy curtains closed over the view. He liked the idea of having an escape route from the apartment that didn’t involve the elevators, but the huge windows left him feeling exposed. Turning to the walk-in closet - itself half as large as his entire Second Class bunk - he poked around for a minute, checking what was there. As Zack had said, Kunsel had brought up all Cloud’s belongings - which, granted, wasn’t much, just the standard-issue SOLDIER wardrobe, toiletries, and a handful of mechanic’s tools and trinkets Cloud had picked up in the nearly two years he’d spent in the past. Still, Cloud was glad it had been Kunsel who’d cleaned out his old bunk. He didn’t like people nosing around his stuff, but Kunsel was different. 

“Everything okay?” Kunsel asked finally. 

Cloud nodded, started to answer out loud, and yawned instead. “Sorry,” he said. 

Kunsel chuckled. “It’s late,” he said, then yawned himself. He pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. “Are you sure you’ll be all right up here?” he asked, then looked down, scuffing a toe on the carpet and abruptly looking like the teenager he was. “I mean, I know it’s sudden, and Sephiroth’s apartment is up here, and…”

“It’s fine,” Cloud said, and smiled at Kunsel when he looked up. “Thank you.” 

Kunsel’s face lit up. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“What about you?” Cloud asked, as he sat down on the edge of the bed and began pulling off his boots. “You’re up here now too.” 

“Yeah.” Kunsel hesitated, biting his lip. “It’s just…”

Cloud waited. It was an open secret in SOLDIER that Kunsel’s promotion to First Class had been a bribe for his continued loyalty to ShinRa after what had happened to him in Nibelheim. He’d suspected it bothered Kunsel more than he let on, but hadn’t wanted to pry. Now, though, it was clear how Kunsel felt. 

Finally Kunsel said, “You know, for all I joked about it with Zack, I never expected to make First. I’m nowhere near your level, or even Zack’s. I don’t…” He shook his head. “I don’t belong here and we all know it. But at the same time… I’m glad. And then I feel dumb for feeling glad, because I didn’t earn it—”

Cloud shook his head. “You earned it,” he said firmly. “What Hojo did to you… it wasn’t fighting in a war, sure, but surviving that…” He trailed off, suppressing a shudder as fragments of memory flashed through his mind, images of Hojo’s lab that might have been from six months ago, or six years. “Being First isn’t just about being able to hit things with a sword.” 

Kunsel bit his lip again, and Cloud jerked his chin at the open spot beside him on the bed. Taking the hint, Kunsel sat down, leaning against Cloud’s side the way he’d done on particularly bad days in Hojo’s cage. 

Cloud wrapped an arm around him. “I never even made SOLDIER the first time around, remember?” 

“Yeah,” Kunsel said. “But you’re different.” 

Cloud shook his head. “I was just a kid.” Sixteen years old back then, and now that he was nearly thirty, it was painfully clear just how little difference there was between sixteen years old and Kunsel’s eighteen. 

Kunsel didn’t answer, just settled deeper against Cloud’s side, kicking his boots off and curling his legs on the bed. Cloud yawned again, shifting to sit more comfortably. 

He didn’t notice when his eyes slipped closed and sleep claimed him.


	13. Summoning Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis gets a summoning lesson, courtesy of Genesis.

Cloud woke the next morning in a moment of dizzying disorientation. He wasn’t in his ShinRa bunk, and someone was pressed against his back— 

Kunsel. The new First Class apartment. 

Cloud blinked his eyes open, squinting in the darkness of the bedroom. Apparently the curtains over the big windows were blackout curtains; only the tiniest slivers of light filtered around their edges. Sitting up, Cloud stretched and yawned. He felt far more rested than usual, probably thanks to Kunsel’s presence warding off his usual highlight reel of nightmares. And probably also because the clock on the bedside table said it was nearly noon. 

There was a sleek little remote control mounted at the head of the bed, with buttons labeled “Open”, “Close”, “Lights: On, Dim, Off”. Experimentally he pressed the “Open” button, and was rewarded with the curtains swishing open with a low hum. Sunlight flooded the room and Kunsel stirred, then jerked upright with a startled yelp. He looked around, eyes wide, until he spotted Cloud - then his face turned nearly as red as his hair.

“Oh,” Kunsel said. “Um. I, um.” 

Cloud shrugged. “We were both tired. You sleep okay?” 

Kunsel nodded, making a visible effort to calm down. The blush faded and he smiled, a little sheepishly. “Better than I have in a while. You’re, uh. You’re not the only one with nightmares.” 

No surprise there. What Kunsel had gone through in Hojo’s lab would haunt him for a long time. Cloud shrugged again. “Glad to help.”

“I better get going, though,” Kunsel said. “I’ve got a couple local missions to run today.” He hopped off the bed, stuffing his feet into his boots and scooping up his helmet where it had fallen to the floor. Cloud trailed after him out to the main room of the apartment - marveling again at the size and lavishness of the place - and walked him to the door. He waved as Kunsel headed up the hall toward his own apartment.

Further up the hall, past the elevator lobby, another door opened and Genesis stepped out in a swirl of red leather. He saw Cloud and grinned - then spotted Kunsel, just stepping through his own door, helmet tucked under his arm. Cloud saw it the moment Genesis jumped to the wrong conclusion, and sighed. He waited until Kunsel’s door was closed - Kunsel didn’t appear to have noticed Genesis, at least - and Genesis had stormed most of the way up the hall toward Cloud before saying, “Don’t.” 

Genesis sniffed. “Don’t what? I wasn’t going to do anything.” 

That was such a blatant lie that Cloud didn’t bother responding to it. Instead, he said, “It was late, we stayed up talking, we fell asleep.” 

It was funnier than it should have been to watch the muscles in Genesis’s jaw work as he tried to figure out how to respond to that in a way that wouldn’t make his already-obvious possessiveness even more blatant. But then Genesis’s eyes lit up, and he plunged a hand into the pocket of his coat. “Oh! I forgot last night, but I have another gift for you.” 

Cloud raised his eyebrows.

“I picked them up on that last tour with the President,” Genesis said, and pulled his hand out. In it, to Cloud’s surprise, he held two shining red materia. “Ramuh and Shiva,” Genesis said proudly, and tossed one of them at Cloud. “You have that mastered Thunder already, so I thought this might expand your elemental repertoire.” 

Cloud caught the Shiva summon and turned it over in his hands, feeling it out. Magic thrummed between his palms, the frozen breath of an ice goddess. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” Genesis said, and didn’t quite manage to hide the smug tone. Apparently if he couldn’t be the one to spend a night in Cloud’s apartment, he would try to buy Cloud’s affection with materia. Cloud just wished he could get through to him that Genesis didn’t _need_ to buy Cloud’s affection. 

Then he had an idea. “You know, I haven’t covered summons with my materia students yet,” he said. “Want to come to the class on Thursday and help demonstrate?” 

Genesis lit up like Zack getting a day off from squats training. “It’s a date!” 

* * *

After the excitement of the coeurl mission, rescuing Yuffie, and the new apartment, the next several days passed quietly. Noctis did all his missions on Tuesday again, ignoring Cloud in that odd way he had, though at least he seemed to be over whatever had upset him on the Wutai trip. Cloud settled into his new apartment slowly, helped by Sephiroth being out of Midgar with President ShinRa on a trip to oversee the building of the mako reactor in Corel. That reactor was a whole different problem, but Cloud still hadn’t figured out how to address it. He had at least a year or two before it came to a head, though, so he filed it away for after they’d solved the mystery of Noctis Lucis Caelum. 

Finally Thursday, and Cloud’s materia class, rolled around. Genesis showed up a full hour early, practically bouncing on his toes with excitement as he helped Cloud set up the Training Room. They cleared out all but a trio of training dummies at the far end of the room, making sure to leave plenty of space for the summons. Cloud’s students trickled in as they worked, gathering at the opposite end of the room and murmuring curiously amongst themselves. 

Noctis was the last to arrive, yawning and bleary, about five seconds before Cloud would have started the class without him. He looked like he’d woken up ten minutes ago; his hair was still damp from the shower and - most tellingly - faint red lines marked his cheek like pillow creases. He dropped down to sit against the wall with the other Thirds, one arm over his mouth to cover another yawn. 

Well, it wasn’t really Cloud’s business if Noctis wanted to spend all day sleeping. Catching Genesis’s eye, Cloud jerked his head at the students to indicate they were ready to start. Genesis followed him out to the center of the room, and the chatter fell away, the cadets staring at Genesis in awe and the Thirds snapping to attention - except for Noctis, who had assumed his usual bored slouch. 

“Commander Rhapsodos is joining us today for a special lesson,” Cloud said. “Who here knows what summon materia is?” 

A soft murmur went around the students, and a few hands hovered uncertainly in the air. No surprise - summon materia was immensely rare. Genesis stepped forward, picking up the lecture. “Scientists and historians throughout the modern era have developed two primary, competing schools of thought regarding the nature of summon materia.” He paced as he spoke, his red coat flaring dramatically behind him. “You’re all familiar with the old gods, I’m sure: Odin, Ramuh, Shiva, and so on. Believed to have originated with an ancient nomadic tribe, the pantheon represents…” 

He kept talking, explaining the history of the worship of the old gods, but Cloud tuned him out. When Genesis had mentioned Ramuh and Shiva, Noctis’s head had snapped up, his bored expression vanishing. He was paying attention to the lesson now, clearly interested. He hadn’t raised his hand when Cloud had asked about summon materia, and come to think of it, Cloud couldn’t remember hearing Noctis invoke any of the old gods, so his interest seemed unusual. 

“—In the modern era, of course,” Genesis finished, “we’ve moved beyond the need for the old gods. Whether or not divine beings truly exist—” and here Noctis snorted quietly, his stormy eyes glittering with some secret amusement. Genesis ignored him, continuing, “they clearly have little to no influence over the planet any longer. But this is where summon materia comes in.” 

He produced his own Ramuh summon with a dramatic swirl of a hand. “The two schools of thought are thus: either the summons are all which remain of beings once worshiped as gods; or they’re simply idols, powerful fakes used by ancient priests to instill fear in their congregations. Whichever they are, however, summons are not to be taken lightly. After all, they contain the power of gods.” 

He’d been warming up the materia as he spoke: on the last word, he cast. Lightning flashed down from the ceiling of the Training Room, multiple bolts stabbing into a spot in front of the dummies at the far end. A tower of earth rose from the ground where the lightning struck, some fifteen feet tall, and an even brighter bolt flashed through the room. When it faded, a man in bone-white robes stood atop the tower. His long beard flowed in a phantom wind as he raised his staff, gathering the lightning into a single point - then turned it loose on the training dummies. Thunder echoed off the walls as electricity blasted through the dummies, leaving them scorched and smoking as Ramuh and his tower vanished with one last flash of light. 

Cloud watched with only half an eye, more interested in the students’ reactions. They all looked awed, eyes and mouths wide - except Noctis, who pressed his lips together in clear disappointment and turned away. Genesis must have been watching, too, because he called, “What’s the matter, Caelum? Does the power of gods not impress you?” 

Noctis flicked him a bored look. “The power of gods does, sure, but that was just a lightning spell with fancy graphics.” 

Genesis sputtered, while the other students snickered. Cloud sighed and stepped forward. “There’s more to it than ‘just’ a lightning spell,” he said. “Casting a summon takes a lot more energy, and in exchange, they do a great deal more damage than a typical elemental materia. Especially the manufactured kind.” He gestured at the charred training dummies. “None of you would be able to do that kind of damage with the materia you have at the level you’re at.” 

Noctis snorted again, and a few of the other students shot him amused glances. Cloud belatedly remembered how Noctis had blown up the training room the first time he’d tried casting, and amended, “Unless something goes really wrong.” 

More giggles. Cloud ignored them and added, “Also, don’t forget the intangible benefits of calling another body onto the battlefield. Most monsters aren’t smart enough to understand what a summon is - all they see is another enemy. One that just hurt them, badly.” He held up his own new summon materia. “This is a Shiva summon,” he said, and tossed it at Noctis. “Why don’t you give it a try?” 

Wisely, the other students retreated to the back of the Training Room without prompting. Cloud and Genesis stayed near Noctis, though Cloud put up a Wall around them just in case. Noctis rolled his eyes at them, but held out the materia, his expression one of deep concentration. Cloud braced himself for… something; he wasn’t sure what but he certainly didn’t want a repeat of Noctis’s previous disastrous cast. 

Nothing happened. 

Noctis’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he concentrated, but the materia sat silent. He was clearly trying - he even shook the materia a few times, as though that would have any effect - but it was obvious he couldn’t do it. Finally he scowled and chucked the materia at Cloud. “Guess I’m not worthy,” he said bitterly. 

He would have stalked off to join the other students at the back of the room, but Genesis grabbed his arm, his eyes narrowed. “Wait, Caelum,” he said. “Come with me. We’ll work on this while Commander Strife continues the class.” 

Noctis tried to protest, but before he could get the first word out, Genesis had dragged him away to the back of the room, motioning as he went for the other students to join Cloud by the training dummies. They snapped to it - Genesis had the look on his face that every SOLDIER and cadet recognized, which meant you’d better get out of his way _right now_. 

Well, Cloud could ask him later what had caught his attention and made him want to give Noctis a private materia lesson. For now, Cloud continued the class, letting each student try the Shiva summon. A few of them ended up collapsed in exhaustion, which wasn’t surprising given how young they were and how taxing even an unleveled summon was, but they all successfully cast at least once. Cloud dismissed the class and headed to the back of the room, where Noctis was holding Genesis’s Ramuh summon and scowling. 

“It’s not going to work,” Noctis snapped as Cloud approached. “I don’t understand what you think I can do differently.” 

“As I’ve told you at least five times already,” Genesis said with exaggerated patience, “you need to actually cast _. Use_ the materia.” 

Cloud raised his eyebrows at Genesis, but the commander gave a quick shake of his head: _not now._ Noctis was holding out the materia yet again, an expression of mingled frustration and concentration on his face, but nothing happened. 

Noctis sagged. “Forget it.”

“Not just yet,” Genesis said. He plucked the Ramuh summon away from Noctis and replaced it with his Fire materia instead. “Try that one.” 

Noctis eyed it like it was going to bite him, but then heaved an exaggerated sigh and held out the materia. Just like his use of Thunder materia in previous classes, the casting was instantaneous, fire blossoming out across the back half of the Training Room. 

“There,” Noctis grumbled. “Happy?” 

“No,” Genesis shot back, and tossed the Ramuh materia back to him. “Now do that, with this.” 

“It’s not the same!” Noctis protested. Genesis just folded his arms, waiting, and finally Noctis sighed again and lifted the Ramuh materia. He visibly strained, the muscles of his neck tightening and his teeth grinding as he struggled to get the materia to respond. Cloud was honestly expecting nothing different this time, since Noctis hadn’t had anything close to success yet - so he was caught completely off-guard when lightning erupted from the materia in an uncontrolled blast. 

Electricity surged across Cloud’s skin, sparking between his back teeth and along his fingers, and he staggered. Genesis stumbled and caught himself against Cloud’s shoulder, his hair standing on end, his blue eyes huge with surprise. Together they turned to stare at Noctis— 

Only to see him on his knees on the ground, his hand pressed to the small of his back, gasping with pain. 

Cloud reached for his Restore materia with one hand, and for Noctis with the other. “Noctis—”

But Noctis smacked Cloud’s hand aside. “Get away from me,” he hissed, anger or maybe pain rendering the words barely recognizable. Noctis stumbled to his feet and away from Cloud and Genesis, his hand still pressed to his back, his body twisted and hunched. “I told you it wouldn’t work.” His already pale face was bone-white except for two spots of color high on his cheekbones; shame and fury darkened his eyes behind the messy fall of his bangs. 

“Caelum—” Genesis tried. 

Noctis snarled a wordless warning and stomped out of the Training Room, though the furious gait didn’t quite manage to hide a limp. When the door had closed behind him, Cloud turned to stare at Genesis. 

“I didn’t know _that_ was going to happen,” Genesis said defensively. 

“What did you mean, he needed to actually cast?” Cloud asked. “He’s cast materia before.” 

Genesis shook his head. The motion sent his static-ruffled hair flopping into his eyes, and he scowled and began combing it with his fingers. “He’s not. Casting, I mean,” he added when Cloud frowned in confusion. “I can sense a materia being warmed up. Caelum doesn’t. He holds it, and an elemental blast occurs - but he’s not actually _using_ the materia.” 

Cloud’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Genesis agreed. He finished brushing his hair into place and frowned at the door where Noctis had vanished. “It makes no sense at all.”


	14. Danger in the Wastes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis goes on a solo mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my FFXV playthrough the summons had the obnoxious habit of only allowing themselves to be summoned right as the fight was ending, when they would be the least useful.
> 
> Also, Gentiana is a complete troll.

“Have _you_ ever heard about someone generating an elemental attack without actually using a materia?” Genesis demanded of Angeal. 

It was Friday, the day after Cloud’s materia class, and he, Genesis, and Angeal were heading to the Briefing Room. Angeal frowned at Genesis’s question. “That doesn’t even make sense,” he said.

“That’s what we said!” Genesis gestured to himself and Cloud. “But that’s exactly what Caelum’s doing.” 

“Huh.” 

Genesis stopped walking and glared at him. “You don’t care, do you,” he accused Angeal. “You’re not even remotely curious about this?”

“I’m more curious why Lazard sent all of us an emergency summons an hour before we were supposed to have a meeting with him anyway,” Angeal answered, and kept walking. 

Genesis harrumphed and followed, but Cloud had to concede Angeal’s point. He suspected the original scheduled afternoon meeting was to discuss Noctis’s work in SOLDIER and, in all likelihood, a promotion to Second Class, but couldn’t begin to guess why Lazard had called all the Firsts in early. 

Sephiroth met them in the hall just outside the Briefing Room. “Is this everyone?” he asked.

Angeal nodded. “Zack and Kunsel had to go down to Junon this morning to deal with a Turk emergency.” 

Sephiroth gave a clipped nod at that and swept into the Briefing Room without further discussion. Lazard was pacing back and forth along the end of the table, snarling into his PHS, “I don’t _care_ how it happened, just tell Scarlet that if it ever happens _again_ , I’m having her funding revoked—No, I just said I don’t care, this is the second time her experiments have put SOLDIERs in danger.” He glanced up, spotted the Firsts, and snapped to the PHS, “Tell her.” Then he slapped the device closed and shoved it into a pocket. 

Genesis raised an eyebrow at Cloud behind Angeal’s back - Lazard didn’t normally get that worked up. But the director took a deep breath, making a visible effort to calm down. “My apologies,” he said. “And thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

“You said SOLDIERs are in danger?” Angeal asked. 

Lazard nodded. “Scarlet has apparently been developing yet another line of attack robots - a model supposedly capable of slaying a Zolom. She took them out to the wastes south of Midgar for testing, but ‘lost control’ over them.” He didn’t quite roll his eyes at the phrase, but it was clear from his tone what he thought of Scarlet’s ability to keep her machines in line. 

Sephiroth folded his arms. “Scarlet’s robots are no threat to us. Why claim we’re in danger?” 

“Not you.” Lazard rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “I’d planned to ask Commanders Strife and Rhapsodos to deal with them after our meeting, but something went wrong with the mission system.” 

“How so?” Angeal asked. 

“Instead of staying reserved as I’d intended, the mission somehow made it out into the regular roster,” Lazard said. “It was automatically assigned to a Third who departed on the mission before I realized what had happened, and now I can’t get hold of him to call him back.” 

Cloud nodded. That wasn’t surprising; cell signal in the wastes was spotty at best. 

“Which Third?” Genesis said. “Some of them might be wise enough to fall back when they find the robots.” 

Lazard looked up at them, and from the weary look on his face, Cloud realized who it had to be even as the director said, “Noctis Lucis Caelum.” 

“Of course it’s him,” Genesis muttered. “It’s like Cloud all over again, but worse.” 

Cloud kicked him in the ankle, then looked innocent when Genesis glared at him. Lazard ignored them both and said, “I need the four of you to head to the wastes immediately to rescue Caelum. He’s shown promise, certainly, but promise won’t protect him from Scarlet’s most murderous designs yet.”

“How much of a lead does he have?” Sephiroth asked.

“About an hour,” Lazard said. “He requisitioned a van. I already have another which will be ready for you by the time you get down to the garage.” 

“Understood.” Sephiroth glanced at Cloud and the others; when no one objected, he nodded to Lazard and swept out of the room. 

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the four of them were packed into a van and bouncing along the bumpy road out of Midgar toward the wastes. They were going faster than the rough road would normally allow, but Angeal navigated around the worst potholes and debris with the ease of familiarity and the reflexes of a SOLDIER First. 

Genesis, sitting in the back with Cloud, leaned forward and prodded Angeal on the shoulder. “So _have_ you ever heard of someone making an elemental blast without using materia?” 

Sephiroth, riding shotgun, glanced back at Genesis with confusion drawing a narrow line between his eyebrows. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

“That is exactly what we have been _saying!_ ” Genesis pronounced dramatically. He launched into a description of what had happened yesterday during the materia lesson. “Perhaps we can use today’s little mishap as a test,” he finished. “Rescue Caelum, but bring him along when we destroy the robots, and have him try out that Thunder materia he carries. Then you’ll see.” 

“Good idea,” Angeal said. “There has to be a logical explanation for what he’s doing.” He drew breath to say more, but Sephiroth’s PHS rang. The general answered, then frowned as he listened to whoever was on the other end. 

“Wait,” Sephiroth said finally. “The others should hear this.” He held out his PHS and set it to speaker. “Go ahead.” 

Lazard’s voice came over the line. “I was just telling Sephiroth that my assistant figured out how this mission got on Caelum’s roster.” 

“You said it was a glitch in the system,” Genesis said. 

“Apparently not,” Lazard said. “Someone assigned it to him.” 

Cloud frowned. “Who?”

“Well…” Lazard hesitated. “The First Class override code used to make the assignment belongs to Commander Fair.”

“Zack?” Angeal said, surprised. “Why would Zack do that?”

“More importantly, _when_ would he have done it?” Genesis added. “He’s with Kunsel in Junon.” 

“Good questions,” Lazard agreed. “Ones we don’t have the answer to.” 

“Does anyone else know Fair’s override code?” Sephiroth asked. “A Turk, perhaps?” Then his green eyes narrowed and he looked at Cloud. 

Cloud scowled back. Sephiroth must have picked up something over their connection; Cloud knew the answer, but hadn’t wanted to throw Zack under the bus. He managed not to squirm as he admitted, “Most of SOLDIER knows. Probably half the cadets, too.”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. In the rearview, Cloud saw Angeal wince. Genesis flung up his hands in exasperation. “I thought the Turks like him because he’s so very trustworthy. How is sharing his First Class override code with most of SOLDIER _trustworthy_?” 

“He likes helping people,” Cloud muttered, the words coming out defensive. “He gives it to people when they lock themselves out of their rooms, or when they need to requisition something. He wouldn’t have expected anyone to do something like this.” 

Lazard sighed, audible even over the PHS’s increasingly staticky connection. “That’s going to make it difficult to identify the culprit,” he said. 

“Who would want to do this, though?” Angeal asked. “Sending Caelum on a reserved First Class mission which would very likely be fatal - has the man made such a bitter enemy already?” 

_“Three friends go into battle,_

_One is captured,_

_One flies away,_

_The one that is left becomes a hero,”_ Genesis recited thoughtfully. 

“Rivalry?” Sephiroth seemed to turn this over, then shot another glance at Cloud. “You’ve spent the most time with him. Have you noticed any such thing?” 

Cloud shook his head. “One of the Thirds made a joke about Noctis’s bunkmate killing him over his alarm clock, but that’s it.” 

“I doubt a bunkmate dispute would rise to the level of attempted homicide,” Lazard agreed. “I’ll keep investigating here. You four… just hurry.” The PHS clicked as he hung up. 

Sephiroth looked at Angeal. “How much farther?” 

“Another fifteen or twenty minutes before the road ends,” Angeal said with a glance at the speedometer. “Then it’s on foot until we find Caelum and the robots.” 

“Wonderful,” Genesis muttered. “Wandering the wastes with killer robots on the prowl. Just my idea of a good time.” 

“You could always recite _Loveless_ at the robots, if it would make you feel better,” Sephiroth suggested. 

Genesis scoffed. “Just because _you_ have no appreciation for the arts—”

They kept bickering as the van drove into the wastes. It reminded Cloud, not pleasantly, of the time the other three had kidnapped him to spar with Sephiroth. That little adventure had been what kicked off Angeal’s degradation and started the whole mess with Hojo. 

Cloud clenched his fists. Hojo was dead, and so was Hollander. Both Genesis and Angeal’s degradation had been cured, and Noctis, despite all his other mysteries, showed no signs of anything similar. All that would happen this time was that they would find Noctis, destroy the rampaging bots, and return home. 

Fortunately, Angeal managed to arrive at the end of the road before Cloud could work himself up too badly. Noctis’s requisitioned van sat just off the pavement, and Angeal parked beside it just in time to stop a full-blown argument from developing between Sephiroth and Genesis over the interpretation of a particularly vague line in _Loveless’s_ third act. Cloud fled the van before either of them could demand his opinion, leaving Angeal to bully them out himself. “Genesis, you and Cloud go that way,” Angeal ordered as he all but dragged Sephiroth out the passenger door. “Sephiroth and I will take this side.” 

Cloud followed Angeal’s nod to the west, where low mesas rose up from the dusty ground to create a maze of cliffs. The sun, low in the sky, cast brilliant orange and pink light across the grey landscape. They’d have to hurry if they didn’t want to be wandering around out here in the dark. Even the more aggressive monsters that emerged at night weren’t a threat to First Class SOLDIERs, but they’d be annoying - and _would_ pose a risk to Noctis. 

“Move quickly,” Sephiroth said, echoing Cloud’s thoughts. The _Loveless_ argument was apparently already forgotten, his focus turning to the mission. “Check in frequently, and be careful. Lazard said these robots were Scarlet’s deadliest yet. Don’t underestimate them.” He tossed a small handheld radio to Cloud, and another to Genesis. “Let’s go.” 

They moved out, spreading out across the wastes. Cloud quickly lost sight of Genesis among the rock formations, and even the rustle of his boots over the rocky ground vanished beneath the dull rush of wind. But as he passed around the far side of one of the larger mesas, the wind carried new sounds to his ears: the shriek of machinery under stress and a distant, familiar shout. 

Noctis. 

Cloud followed the sound, ears straining as he wove through the rocky terrain. When he thought he was headed in the right direction, he radioed the others, but didn’t stop to wait for them. He could hear the deep rattle of heavy artillery now, and another metallic shriek. The sounds of battle intensified as he wove through a narrow gully that cut through one of the larger cliffs - then abruptly fell silent. 

Cloud’s gut clenched. Was he too late? He pushed himself to run faster, heedless of the rocky spurs jutting into his path and tearing at his shoulders and legs. The shadows shifted up ahead, and Cloud skidded around a corner, emerging onto a broad, flat area littered with smoking robot wreckage. 

There had to be at least twenty of the things, though it was hard to tell because they’d been so thoroughly torn apart. Spindly metal legs, still-smoking gun barrels, sheets of plating, and more debris all lay scattered across the rocky plateau. The air was filled with smoke and debris from the battle, and felt eerily charged, like standing near a massive mako fountain, or the Northern Crater seven years ago when Cloud and the others had fought Sephiroth. In the center of the plateau was a larger pile of robot bodies, as though they’d all ganged up for a final, desperate rush against a single target. Noctis Lucis Caelum stood atop the pile of wrecked robots, his hands empty, his face turned upward and his eyes reflecting the brilliant pink glow of the sunset. 

As Cloud skidded to a startled halt at the edge of the plateau, Noctis blinked and turned to look down at him. The pink sunset glow vanished from his eyes, replaced with surprise that mirrored Cloud’s own. “What the hell are you doing here?” Noctis said. 

“Saving you...?” Cloud said, then shook his head, staring in amazement at the mess of metal parts. That unsettling mako-charge feeling was fading along with the last dying twitches of the robots, and Cloud wondered if some of their batteries had exploded. “I guess you don’t need it.” 

“No, why would I?” Noctis jumped lightly down from his perch, following Cloud’s gaze around the plateau. “That was a lot more fun than killing bugs in the slums.” 

“Did you just say that was _fun?!_ ” Genesis demanded, emerging from the gully behind Cloud. His hair and coat were windblown, a sign of how fast he’d run to catch up to them. “How did you—” 

Noctis scowled at him from behind his bangs. “Did you think I couldn’t handle a few MAs on my own?” 

His frown deepened a moment before Cloud sensed Sephiroth’s presence. The general, with Angeal on his heels, followed Genesis out of the gully. Green eyes surveyed the destruction coolly as Sephiroth said, “Given the Head of Weapons Development’s reputation, Director Lazard had reserved this mission for a team of First Class SOLDIERs. You should never have received it as a solo mission.” 

“Oh.” Noctis looked over the robots once more, then shrugged. “Guess the director overestimated these things.” 

“You _also_ should not have gone on _any_ mission alone,” Sephiroth added sharply. “You’re still on probation and subject to Commander Strife’s supervision.” 

Noctis’s expression instantly turned sullen, his chin lowering so his bangs hid his face. “The mission didn’t say anything about needing to be babysat. Figured maybe you guys were finally laying off.” He strode forward, brushing past Cloud toward the gully. 

“Wait, Caelum, you’re hurt!” Genesis called. Cloud spotted the torn fabric of Noctis’s uniform and the red smear of blood down his side an instant before Genesis cast a Cure on him. 

Noctis yelped and jerked like he’d been stung. “The hell—?!”

“Easy,” Angeal said. He stepped closer, one hand out like he was worried Noctis might spook. “It’s just a Cure spell.” 

“A Cure spell? Like in—” Noctis started, then snapped his mouth closed so hard his teeth clicked audibly. 

“Never had magical healing before, eh?” Genesis asked. He clapped Noctis on the shoulder. “SOLDIERs heal quickly, but a Cure is far cleaner and doesn’t leave a scar.” 

Noctis blinked, then twisted to look down at where the wound had been. “...Huh.” 

“Come on,” Angeal said gently. “We should get back. The wastes are—cold at night.” He didn’t quite manage to hide the fact that he’d been about to say something else. But unless those mangled robots had been far below Scarlet’s usual standards, _dangerous_ wasn’t a concern for Noctis any more than it was for the Firsts. 

If Noctis noticed the substitution, though, he gave no sign, just headed for the gully again. “Sounds good to me. I’m beat.” 

Angeal and Genesis followed him, but Sephiroth hung back, and Cloud paused, waiting. Only when the others had vanished into the weaving trail through the rock did Sephiroth say in a low voice, “Did Caelum have a weapon when you found him?” 

Cloud blinked, running the memory through his mind. Noctis’s standard-issue broadsword had been strapped to his back, but… “Not in his hand, no.” 

Sephiroth surveyed the robot graveyard before them once more. The sun had sunk below the horizon while they’d been talking to Noctis, and in the deepening twilight, his slit-pupiled eyes glowed more brightly than usual. “None of this damage was done with that broadsword he carries,” Sephiroth said quietly. “In fact, I see a squadron’s worth of weapon marks here.” 

“You think he had help?” 

“I don’t know,” Sephiroth admitted. “We should have seen _some_ sign of the presence of others. But Caelum clearly has no other weapons himself.” 

Cloud took another look around the plateau, studying the destroyed robots. Now that Sephiroth had pointed it out, he could see the marks of strange weapons on the pieces: a serrated blade here, something long and thin - a spear? - there. Bullet holes from a different caliber than the robots’ own mounted guns, and even familiar layered slices from a throwing star like the one Yuffie had used in Cloud’s timeline. A squadron’s worth of weapons, like Sephiroth had said, but Cloud hadn’t heard a squadron. And he’d arrived fast enough after the fight ended that he should have seen _something._

“No one else was here,” Cloud said reluctantly, and shook his head. “We’ll figure it out.” 

“Yes,” Sephiroth agreed. His eyes gleamed like a prowling coeurl’s as he stalked after the others back to the van. “We will.” 

Cloud turned, intending to follow, but an icy breeze shivered over his bare arms. He stopped, senses on high alert. The wastes were cold at night, sure, but the rocky ground was still warm with the last of the sun’s baked-in heat and that breeze had been positively arctic. Almost like…

He dug his Shiva materia out of his pocket and held it up. The red sphere was coated with a thin layer of frost, and Cloud’s breath crackled and fogged the air as he studied it. Then his straining senses caught movement behind him, and he spun around, reaching for the hilt of First Tsurugi on his back. 

For just a moment, he thought he saw a figure standing on the far side of the plateau. In the fading light, all he could make out was long dark hair, pale skin, and flowing clothes. He took a couple of quick, silent steps forward, trying to get a better look. For an instant, the figure was obscured behind the jutting leg of a robot - and when he finished the motion, the figure was gone as though it had never existed. That arctic breeze rippled across Cloud’s skin once more, then likewise faded. 

Cloud still shivered, and not from the chill. Had he imagined the figure, thanks to Sephiroth’s suggestion of others accompanying Noctis? Or had Cloud actually seen one of Noctis’s mysterious accomplices? He took a couple more steps forward, squinting toward where he thought the figure had been, but saw nothing, heard nothing.

It couldn’t have been a hallucination. Could it? Cloud was sane, had gone to great lengths to recover his sanity - he shouldn’t be seeing imaginary people anymore. Shouldn’t. But then, how else to explain the figure? Even Wutai ninja couldn’t vanish in plain sight like that. But if it _was_ a hallucination— 

“Cloud?” 

He jumped about a mile and spun around, glaring at Sephiroth where he stood at the entrance to the path through the rock. Sephiroth returned the look levelly. “Everything alright?” 

“Fine,” Cloud snarled. He forced himself to let go of First Tsurugi’s hilt and stalked past Sephiroth before the general could ask any more questions. Sephiroth was absolutely the _last_ person Cloud wanted to discuss possible hallucinations with. And it wasn’t a hallucination anyway. It couldn’t be. It had to be Noctis’s mystery accomplice. Cloud was _sane._

But as fast as he walked through the wastes back to the vans, he couldn’t outrun the memories of when he wasn’t. 


	15. Promotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Firsts discuss Noctis (again), and Noctis gets a promotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days, Cloud is going to regret jumping to conclusions about Sephiroth’s intentions.
> 
> That day is coming sooner than he thinks.

Noctis readily handed over the keys to his van for Angeal and Sephiroth to drive back to Midgar, and spent the ride in the back seat of the other van, sound asleep despite Genesis's apparent determination to hit every pothole along the way. Cloud had to shake him awake when they got back to the ShinRa building, and even then he only woke up enough to stagger into the elevator, then out again on the barracks floor. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at Cloud as the rest of them continued upward in the elevator, but Cloud shook his head - since Noctis had been out cold the whole ride, Cloud hadn’t been able to ask him about any possible accomplices. 

Sephiroth’s mouth thinned, but all he said was, “I’ll brief Lazard. The rest of you, get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.” 

Genesis opened his mouth with the gleam in his eye that meant he was about to complain dramatically and pointlessly, so Cloud took advantage of the elevator doors opening again to make a quick exit down the hall toward the Training Room. The mad rush out to the wastes to supposedly save Noctis, combined with the unsettling maybe-hallucination after, had left him with too much nervous energy in his veins, and he wanted to burn some of it off before trying to sleep. He spent the next few hours fighting holographic mako mutants until his muscles burned with a comfortable weariness, then headed to his new apartment to sleep. 

But the physical exhaustion wasn’t enough to keep the nightmares at bay: black-cloaked men and the dead of Nibelheim, static in his mind and pain in his memories as he struggled to sort out what was real. The frozen bite of the Northern Crater, Sephiroth encased in mako looming overhead, the pressure of his will driving Cloud’s body like a puppet. Until something shifted, and the nightmares settled into vague, uneasy dreams. 

Cloud woke up feeling unsettled and restless, Sephiroth’s presence on the same floor an unscratchable itch at the back of his mind. He was almost glad to see the message on his PHS that Lazard had rescheduled yesterday’s interrupted meeting for this morning. 

He showered, dressed, headed out of his apartment, and nearly tripped over Sephiroth, who was sitting cross-legged with his back against Cloud’s door. He swore and caught his balance against the doorframe. Sephiroth twitched, looking for all the world like a startled cat as he blinked up at Cloud for a bleary moment. Then he seemed to come fully awake, rolling to his feet with most of his usual grace.

“My apologies,” Sephiroth said, as calm as though he’d merely cut Cloud off in a hallway or something. “I had hoped that being on the same floor—” with a tilt of his head toward his own apartment at the far end of the hall— “would be enough to avoid needing to intrude on your sleep. But it seems the range on that particular aspect of our connection is shorter than that.” 

Cloud scowled at him. “I refuse to believe that sitting on the floor in the hall all night is better than seeing my nightmares.” 

“I’m not the only one they're disturbing,” Sephiroth said. He didn't put any particular emotion in the words, his tone as maddeningly even as always, but Cloud still felt a spike of rage.

“I don't need your pity,” he hissed. “You of all people—” He bit off the rest of the words.

Sephiroth didn't reply, which was almost as aggravating as anything he could have said. He merely inclined his head in acknowledgement and turned to leave.

Abruptly Cloud remembered how Genesis had reacted to seeing Kunsel leave Cloud’s room the other day. “You know if Genesis sees you there, he’s going to throw a fit.” 

“I can handle Genesis,” Sephiroth said, amused. 

“I don't _want_ to handle Genesis,” Cloud snapped, then sighed. Honestly, at this point, he wanted less to deal with Genesis's clinginess than he did with Sephiroth watching him sleep, if only because he wouldn’t feel guilty about killing Sephiroth when it got to be too much. “If you're going to do this, just come inside next time.”

Sephiroth gave a quiet chuckle. “I appreciate the offer, but Commander Kunsel impressed on me that I was not to enter your apartment for any reason.” 

Cloud’s eyebrows shot up. Kunsel still got nervous just being around Sephiroth; Cloud couldn’t imagine him confronting Sephiroth like that.

Sephiroth smiled, a faint twitch of his lips. “He cares about you a great deal.” 

Cloud turned away, his cheeks burning, not sure why that statement annoyed him so much. “Everyone knows you do what you want anyway.” 

Silence for a moment. Sephiroth said quietly, “That’s why I won’t go into your apartment.” He turned away again, striding up the hall. “We’re meeting with Lazard in an hour. I’ll see you there.” 

* * *

“Hey! Cloud!” Zack yelled. Cloud turned in time to see Zack jog up the hall, a wide grin on his face and Kunsel a few steps behind. “Tseng said you guys had an interesting time yesterday. Is that why Lazard rescheduled?” 

“Something like that,” Cloud said. After the conversation with Sephiroth, Cloud hadn’t been up for dealing with the noisy, crowded mess hall, and had gone straight to Lazard’s office instead. The door was unlocked, but when Cloud had nudged it, he’d spotted Lazard hunched over his desk, sound asleep, his head resting on his arm and a damp spot on the paper beneath his mouth. Cloud had closed the door again and sat on the bench outside, waiting for the others to arrive. “Did Tseng tell you what happened?” 

Zack shook his head, but Kunsel said, “I heard Noctis took on a First Class mission and survived.” 

Cloud sensed Sephiroth’s presence a moment before the general rounded the corner, looking no worse the wear for having spent the night on the floor. Angeal and Genesis trailed after him, Genesis cradling a mug of coffee as though it was the most precious thing in the world. “You wouldn’t know anything about Noctis being assigned that mission, would you, Commander Fair?” Sephiroth asked. 

“No,” Zack said, looking puzzled. “Why would I? We just got back from Junon half an hour ago.” 

Sephiroth made a noncommittal noise and stepped past Cloud, knocking on the door to the director’s office. Cloud’s mako-enhanced hearing picked up Lazard’s startled snort, then his curse as he realized he’d fallen asleep at his desk and hastily tried to compose himself. “Come in,” Lazard called finally. 

Sephiroth pushed open the door, and the other Firsts followed him inside. Lazard had straightened his hair and his suit, though there was a noticeable imprint on his cheek from a crease in his sleeve. “Director,” Sephiroth said blandly. 

“General, Commanders,” Lazard answered. “Thank you for agreeing to meet on a Saturday.”

“Of course, Director,” Kunsel said. “This is about Noctis, isn’t it? Promoting him, I mean.” 

Lazard nodded. “He’s been with the company for over a month now, and has shown incredible promise.” 

“Promise alone doesn’t make a SOLDIER,” Angeal said. 

“It does not,” the director answered. “But all the same, we’re considering a promotion to Second Class. Tseng should be here any moment, then we can get started.” 

The six SOLDIERs arranged themselves around the cramped office as Lazard straightened the papers on his desk, and thankfully for Cloud’s rapidly-diminishing ability to tolerate Sephiroth’s presence, Tseng arrived only a minute later. “Apologies for the delay,” he said smoothly. “The Vice President requested my attention on an internal matter.” 

Something tugged at the edge of Cloud’s mind and he glanced up in time to see Sephiroth and Genesis trade a significant look. Tseng gave a subtle shake of his head in answer, and the SOLDIERs subsided. Cloud narrowed his eyes. What internal matter had Tseng, Genesis, and Sephiroth involved? 

“No problem at all,” Lazard said to Tseng. He tapped his sheaf of papers on the desk, a little signal to draw the meeting to order. “Again, thank you all for your flexibility with the last-minute schedule change. We’re short-handed enough that I’d like to get Caelum promoted to Second Class as soon as possible.” 

Genesis folded his arms and looked down his nose at Lazard. “You wouldn’t have called us all here if Caelum’s promotion was routine, though.” 

“No,” Lazard agreed. His gaze settled on Cloud for a moment before flicking away, to Tseng and then Sephiroth. “Caelum is not our first… unusual recruit, but his situation is quite different from Commander Strife’s. Given the short-handedness I mentioned, I’m hesitant to make snap decisions that could end up costing us more than we’d gain. So I’d like to have a candid discussion - not to leave this room - about your thoughts regarding Caelum and whether he would be a good candidate for Second.” 

Cloud glanced at Kunsel, then Genesis, and saw his own thoughts reflected in their eyes. He didn’t need to look at Sephiroth to know the general was thinking along the same lines: they couldn’t tell Lazard everything. Not yet, not when too many of Noctis’s mysteries were unsolved. If they weren’t careful, Noctis would be whisked away to a ShinRa holding cell - or worse, to a Science Department tank. Hojo and Hollander might both be dead, but they’d had a great many subordinates between them who were just as invested in continuing their work. 

It was Sephiroth who said, “I have no more reservations about promoting Caelum than I did about Cloud. He’s a skilled fighter. Given the robots he took down last night, he’s more than qualified for Second.” 

“He appears to lack discipline,” Angeal said neutrally. “He completes his assigned missions, but doesn’t proactively take on more in order to train.” 

“It’s not as though he needs more training,” Genesis scoffed. “And you’re just cranky because he doesn’t remember to call you ‘sir’.” 

“Exactly,” Angeal said. “He lacks discipline.” 

Zack laughed. “Honor and discipline make a SOLDIER, right?” 

“Yes,” Angeal said, and cuffed him lightly in the head. “That includes not mocking your superiors.” 

Zack drew breath to retort, and Tseng interjected quickly, “The Turks have not observed Caelum doing anything untoward. In fact, other than his assigned missions, he doesn’t do much of anything except sleep.” 

“I don’t know how he does it,” Genesis grumbled. “How can one man spend so much time asleep?” 

“He might just be bored,” Cloud suggested. “The Third Class missions he’s been doing are too easy for him.” 

“It’s possible,” Tseng said. “Especially, as the General said, given what he did last night.” Cloud nodded agreement, and Tseng continued, “We’ve also had no luck trying to determine his origins. No one in Wutai will admit to knowledge of him, other than his recent trip with Commander Strife. There are no records of anyone by any combination of his three names, or any of the aliases he used prior to joining ShinRa, in any system we have access to. We even risked tapping our informants in the terrorist group AVALANCHE, but they’ve never heard of him, either. Whoever he is, it’s as though he didn’t exist until this year.” Tseng didn’t bother to hide the pointed look he shot Cloud, but Cloud pointedly ignored him right back. He’d be happiest if the Turks never learned the whole truth of Cloud’s own origins. 

“AVALANCHE? You think he might be a sleeper agent of some kind?” Angeal asked Tseng. 

“I think the timing and circumstances of his appearance are incredibly suspicious,” Tseng said. “But we also have no evidence that he _is_ up to anything.” 

Genesis rolled his eyes. “So do we promote him or not?” 

“I see no reason not to,” Angeal admitted reluctantly. “We can keep drilling discipline into him, and I think Cloud’s right that Caelum is behaving the way he is due to boredom. And we certainly could use another man with his skill in combat.”

Zack and Kunsel both nodded in agreement. Lazard looked to Cloud and Genesis, eyebrows raised. Cloud shrugged. He didn’t really care - Noctis was certainly talented enough to be Second, or even First, but he understood Tseng and Lazard’s unease. Genesis just said, “I don’t see why not.” 

Lazard turned to Sephiroth next. “General?”

Sephiroth wore the pensive expression that meant he was deep in thought. Finally he said, “We promote him. If he _is_ an agent for some hostile entity, he’s not going to take action until he believes he has more freedom and trust. If he’s _not_ a hostile agent, it’s a waste to leave him a Third.” 

“All right, then,” Lazard said. “It’s settled. I’ll file the paperwork and get it to you by this afternoon,” he added to Sephiroth. To the others, he said, “I appreciate your candor and your discretion in this matter. ShinRa has had too many upsets in the past year - let’s try to keep from rocking the boat further.” 

* * *

“Maybe he’s an Ancient,” Kunsel said suddenly. 

Half asleep, Cloud didn’t process the words right away. “What?”

“Noctis,” Kunsel said. He glanced around furtively, then continued in a low voice, “You said that in your timeline, Zack’s girlfriend was an Ancient and had a lot of strange powers. Maybe Noctis is, too.” 

After the meeting with Lazard, everyone had scattered: Sephiroth to his office to catch up on some paperwork, Genesis and Angeal to the Training Room to spar, and Cloud and Kunsel to the First Class break room. Zack had tried to join them, but Lazard had called him back. Since Tseng was still in the room, Cloud had suspected Zack was about to get a stern talking-to about the concept of _need to know_ and the intended uses of his First Class access code. 

But that was for Zack to worry about. Cloud and Kunsel had sprawled out on the big couch in the break room, Cloud’s head pillowed on Kunsel’s leg while he told him what had happened yesterday with Noctis. When he’d finished, Kunsel had seemed to be lost in thought, and Cloud had started to doze off. 

But Kunsel’s words jolted him awake. “He can’t be an Ancient,” Cloud said. “Everyone was really clear that Aeris was the last one.” 

“The last one in _your_ timeline,” Kunsel pointed out. “We’ve thought before that Noctis is someone who died in your timeline but survived in this one. Maybe she isn’t the last one anymore.” 

Cloud opened his mouth to deny it again, but then stopped. Aeris had thought that she and her birth mother Ifalna had been the last true Ancients, but Aeris had been trapped in Hojo’s lab and then the Midgar slums for most of her life. It wasn’t impossible that another Ancient had been out there somewhere - maybe one who’d died young for whatever reason, long before Aeris came into her power enough to become aware of his existence. “Maybe,” he admitted finally. “If he is one—” 

He heard footsteps in the hall and cut himself off a moment before Zack trudged into view, his shoulders slumped as though Lazard and Tseng had kicked his puppy. He made a beeline for the couch, flopping down to perch dejectedly on the edge of the cushion by Cloud’s feet.

“Next time, don’t go around telling everyone your private access code,” Kunsel said dryly. 

Zack moaned. “They deleted my code, and almost didn’t give me a new one,” he admitted. “I thought they were gonna demote me.” 

Cloud winced in sympathy. Zack heaved a great sigh, then straightened, his shoulders squaring as though he was tossing away the weight of the admonishment. “Anyway, what were you guys talking about? If who’s one what?” 

Cloud and Kunsel traded a quick glance. As far as Cloud knew, Zack had never known Aeris was an Ancient, and Cloud didn’t want to be the one to give away her secret. Kunsel only knew because Cloud had told him how she’d saved the Planet when they’d been trapped together in Hojo’s lab. Finally Kunsel said carefully, “We thought Noctis might be an Ancient.” 

“An Ancient?” Zack repeated. “You mean, the weird mythical people Hojo and Hollander were trying to recreate with the whole Jenova thing?” 

“They’re not mythical,” Cloud said. “I met one in my timeline. Noctis doesn’t have exactly the same abilities the one I met did, but I don’t know everything they could do, either.” 

“Huh.” Zack bounced to his feet and started doing squats, almost absently. “He doesn’t seem all that ancient, though.” 

Cloud shrugged. Kunsel said, “It’s just a theory.”

“Can we test it?” Zack asked. “Is there a test for being an Ancient?”

“Ancients know they’re Ancients,” Cloud said. “But I don’t think Noctis would tell us if he was.” 

“Probably not,” Kunsel agreed. His fingers drummed thoughtfully on Cloud’s chest. “He probably wouldn’t agree to any kind of test for it, either. Even if he’s not an Ancient, he doesn’t seem to like being a lab rat.” 

“Don’t blame him,” Cloud said, and shuddered. 

“We’ll just have to keep an eye on him, then,” Kunsel said. “Ancient or not, I feel like he’s up to _something_.” 

“We’ll find out, I guess,” Zack said. He clapped his hands together, clearly deciding the matter settled. “Lazard said I could tell Noctis he’s promoted. I’m going to do that once he wakes up, and take him out to Mog’s for drinks. You guys wanna come?” 

Cloud glanced up at Kunsel, who said, “Sure, should be fun.” 

“Great!” Zack said, and headed for the break room door, tossing a wave over his shoulder. “I’ll message you when we’re ready to go.” 


	16. Truth or Buy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Firsts take Noctis out for drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noctis is a terrible lightweight who's only ever drunk watered-down diplomats' wine at a handful of official royal functions.

“—so Angeal made me do five hundred push-ups and a  _ thousand _ squats,” Zack said, waving his beer mug for emphasis and nearly sloshing its contents all over Cloud. “I could barely move the next day!” 

“You’re lucky he didn’t kick you out of the training program entirely,” Kunsel scoffed. “A day-one cadet backtalking a SOLDIER First? What were you even thinking?”

“He wasn’t,” Cloud said, then looked innocent when Zack glared at him. The glare was ruined somewhat by the grin tugging at the corners of Zack’s mouth, as though even he knew Cloud was right. 

The five of them - Cloud, Kunsel, and Zack, plus Noctis and Genesis - sat around a table at Mog’s Bar and Grill, a favorite watering hole of off-duty SOLDIERs. Cloud had been more than a little surprised that none of Noctis’s fellow Thirds had joined them for the celebration of his promotion, but then, Noctis mostly kept to himself. He didn’t seem the type to make friends easily - and there was that bizarre possible assassination attempt with Scarlet’s robots to suggest that he had outright enemies. 

Still, he’d come out to the bar with them, and had good-naturedly agreed to the pub game Genesis had suggested: a round of Truth or Shot. Though, since shots - even in drinking-game-scale numbers - weren’t enough alcohol to get a SOLDIER drunk, they’d modified it to Truth or Buy The Next Round instead. 

Zack, having fulfilled his Truth duty, pointed at Noctis. “Truth or buy?” 

“Buy,” Noctis said, and waved a hand to signal their waitress. As she vanished to pick up their drinks, Noctis tilted his head at Cloud. “Truth or buy?”

Zack turned delighted puppy-dog eyes on Cloud, and Cloud sighed. “Truth.” He was probably going to regret this, but thankfully Noctis ignored Zack’s stage-whispered suggestions about _first crush_ and _favorite person in SOLDIER_ and asked, “Weirdest thing you’ve ever done on a mission.” 

_ Seduce Don Corneo dressed as a woman, _ Cloud thought, but did not say. Genesis would never, _ever_ let him live that down if he found out. Neither would Zack. He settled for, “Had to ride a jumping dolphin up an electrified support tower in the ocean near Junon.” 

Noctis’s eyebrows shot up. Zack choked on his beer and sputtered while Kunsel thumped him on the back. Genesis said only, “I’ll admit, knowing you I was expecting something much stranger.” 

Cloud just shrugged. “Truth or buy?” 

“Me?” Genesis said. “Truth.” 

Cloud had been expecting Genesis to buy, so he floundered for a moment, trying to think of what to ask. Zack leaned in conspiratorially and Cloud said quickly, “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Zack protested. 

“You can ask him when it’s your turn,” Cloud said. Zack favored the kinds of juicy interpersonal drama questions Cloud used to hear from teenagers when he helped Tifa around the Seventh Heaven; there was no way was Cloud asking Genesis any of that stuff.

“Aw,” Zack said, but sat back in his chair. 

That still left Cloud without a question to ask, and he went with the first thing that came to mind: “Worst mission you’ve ever been on.” 

“The swamps southeast of Midgar,” Genesis said immediately. “I was still a cadet back then - it was only a few months after Angeal and I joined SOLDIER. Something was attacking travelers along a specific side road between Fort Condor and the fork to Junon and Midgar, and Hollander thought it would be a good test of my abilities. But those swamps are _miserable._ ” He went on, detailing the trauma of having to sleep on the ground in the swamp in the midst of mosquito swarms, getting swamp muck on his uniform, and other indignities. The story lasted long enough for the waitress to serve the round of drinks Noctis had bought, and for Cloud to understand why the only time he’d known Genesis to exercise his First Class mission-refusal privilege was to turn down an easy mako mutant hunt in the swamps. 

Finally Genesis finished, though, and pointed at Noctis. “Truth or buy?” 

Noctis took a lazy sip of the fruity cocktail he’d ordered. “Buy.” 

“Nope!” Genesis said. “You just bought on your last turn. You can’t do that twice in a row.” 

“Then why’d you even ask?” Noctis said. He leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but stately in a way that reminded Cloud of Rufus ShinRa. His voice was soft, and somehow commanded attention despite the slight blurring at the edges of his words. “Anyway, nothing wrong with a couple rounds in a row.” 

“C’mon, Noctis,” Zack pleaded. “It’s no fun if you just buy rounds. Even Cloud did Truth.” 

“Leave me out of this,” Cloud said, shaking his head and ignoring Kunsel, who was clearly trying not to laugh.

“And I’m not Cloud, anyway,” Noctis retorted.

Genesis chucked a pretzel at Noctis from the bowl on the table. “Protest all you want. I’m the highest-ranking person here and I say you have to do Truth.” 

Noctis opened his mouth, then closed it again with a snap audible even over the general hubbub of the bar, and smirked instead. “Fine. Truth.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Genesis crowed. “My question is, where are you from? You’ve never told anyone and we’re all curious.”

“You’re all nosy, you mean,” Noctis retorted. “And I told Cloud.” He took a sip of his cocktail as though that settled the matter.

“You said you’re from the east,” Cloud said. “That’s not exactly specific.” 

“So?” Zack pressed. “Where are you from?” 

“An island off the eastern coast. You won’t have heard of it,” Noctis added when Kunsel opened his mouth to ask. His expression turned grim. “It was destroyed.” 

“By ShinRa?” Cloud asked carefully. He couldn’t help but think of Nibelheim, of watching his hometown burn. 

But Noctis shook his head. “...Monsters,” he said quietly. 

“Sorry,” Cloud said. 

“Wait,” Genesis cut in. “If you’re from a destroyed island to the east, how did you end up doing odd jobs on the west side of the Western Continent?” 

“Is this Truth or Buy, or Twenty Questions?” Noctis asked, sounding irritated. 

Genesis shrugged. “Can you blame us? You’re quite the mystery.” 

“Not intentionally,” Noctis muttered. He pointed at Kunsel. “Truth or buy?” 

Kunsel glanced warily at Genesis, but Genesis didn’t protest. “Truth,” Kunsel said. 

“Accomplishment you’re most proud of,” Noctis said. 

Zack laughed. “That’s too easy - making First Class, I bet.”

“Don’t answer for me!” Kunsel protested. “And it wasn’t that anyway, it was getting into SOLDIER in the first place.” 

Cloud bumped Kunsel’s knee lightly with his own, remembering his midnight conversation with Kunsel last week about Kunsel’s promotion and how he felt about it. Kunsel bumped his knee back, letting Cloud know he was all right. 

Zack just laughed. “Okay, that’s fair. Who’s next?” 

Kunsel picked Zack, and they went around the table for a few more rounds, the grimness of Noctis’s answer fading under lighthearted questions. But then the game got back to Genesis. “Buy,” he said with a quick motion to their waitress that turned into a point at Noctis. “Truth.” 

Noctis gave him an unimpressed look. “Don’t you mean ‘Truth _or Buy_ ’?” 

“No, I mean Truth,” Genesis said. “Don’t make me pull rank on you again.” 

Cloud sighed. “Back off, Genesis.” 

Genesis glared at him. “Why? You’re as curious as the rest of us.” 

“We’re supposed to be celebrating his promotion,” Cloud said. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Genesis’s focus, and he could tell from the way Noctis was slouched in his seat, a stubborn set to his jaw and his eyes hidden behind his bangs, that Genesis was pushing too far. Cloud _was_ curious, sure, but upsetting Noctis - especially after his grim answer earlier - was only going to drive him away. “Let him have fun.” 

Genesis sighed dramatically. “ _Fine_ ,” he grumbled. To Noctis, he added, “Then answer this: how in the name of the Goddess do you _sleep_ so much? I’ve met cats who spend more time awake than you do.” 

Noctis smirked, some of the sullenness fading from his expression. “Reflection,” he said. 

Genesis blinked. “What?” 

“Reflection,” Noctis repeated. The pitch of his voice dropped, like he was trying to imitate someone with a barrel-deep voice, though the tipsy blur to his words marred the effect: “The Chosen One must now enter Reflection, that the Light of Providence may shine within.” In his normal voice he added, “I think ‘Reflection’ is just a fancy word for ‘sleep a lot’.” 

Cloud frowned, trading a confused glance with Kunsel. That… wasn’t what he’d expected. But then Genesis scoffed and threw another pretzel at him. “If you’re going to lie on your Truth, at least don’t be so obvious about it.” 

“What?!” Noctis protested. 

Genesis rolled his eyes and straightened in his chair, his chin lifting in an actor’s pose as he quoted, 

“ _And the Goddess descended unto us_

_ Her Light Divine shone in our hearts _

_ and called us to reflect upon our deeds and our sorrows.  _

_ Her gift, her final providence.”  _

Cloud felt the familiar twinge at the back of his awareness a moment before Sephiroth’s voice, dry with amusement, cut through the bar’s din. “ _Loveless_ , unconfirmed Act Five fragment, from the disputed journals discovered in 1894.” A moment later, Sephiroth himself appeared out of the dimness of the bar, the other patrons falling aside with startled exclamations as he passed. 

“Exactly!” Genesis stabbed the air with a finger. “That version was even playing in Junon for a while a few years ago.” He turned the finger on Noctis. “So try again, with the _real_ truth.” 

“Later,” Sephiroth interrupted. He caught Genesis’s eye. “Our departure time has changed. You have twenty minutes.”

Cloud glanced at Kunsel and Zack, only to see his own surprise reflected in their expressions. He hadn’t known Genesis and Sephiroth were supposed to be leaving on a mission anytime in the next few days, much less in the next few minutes. 

“Wait, departure?” Zack said, and frowned at Genesis. “I thought you said you didn’t have anything tonight.”

“I _didn’t_ ,” Genesis grumbled, throwing a glare at Sephiroth.

Sephiroth only shrugged. “I didn’t know until a few minutes ago, when I was sent to get you.”

“You couldn’t have called?” Genesis said with a pointed lift of an eyebrow.

“The PHS signals might be tapped,” Sephiroth said, his voice going even more dry - a clear sign that he thought the notion was ridiculous. “I suggested my presence in public might be _slightly_ more obvious, but my objections were overruled.” 

“Wh—Ugh.” Genesis scowled. “He’s really gotten paranoid, hasn’t he?” 

Sephiroth didn’t answer, but his eyes flicked pointedly to the bar crowd around them. Most of the civilians had been giving the Firsts’ table a wide berth, but Sephiroth’s entrance had drawn the attention of nearly everyone there, and many curious ears were turned their way. 

With a dramatic sigh, Genesis heaved himself out of his chair. “Fine,” he pronounced. “Far be it from a SOLDIER to shirk his duty.” Then he spun on one heel, his coat flaring as he pointed at Noctis again. “Which includes you answering my question when I get back.”

Noctis looked unimpressed. “I did.”

Genesis just scoffed and pivoted once more to follow Sephiroth out of the bar. Noctis watched them go, then took another drink from his glass and slouched down in his chair, his black bangs falling over his eyes. Zack leaned across the table to pat him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. Genesis is kind of a _Loveless_ expert - you can’t slip _anything_ past him.” 

Noctis snorted. “Maybe next time he won’t ask stupid questions.” 

“It’s not stupid, though,” Zack said. “I’ve never met anyone who can sleep as much as you do. You’re practically a professional napper!” 

“Something like that,” Noctis agreed, then yawned wide, as though just the thought was enough to make him drowsy. “Speaking of, I’m beat. Gonna turn in for the night.” He made as if to stand up, but stumbled, uncoordinated and nearly tripping. Cloud jumped up and caught him on reflex, holding his arm until he got his feet under him. 

But Noctis still swayed in a motion all too familiar to Cloud from years of working at the Seventh Heaven. “Are you _drunk?_ ” he asked, startled.

“No,” Noctis said, then, “Maybe. Yes. Probably.” His brow furrowed in concentration as he made a valiant effort to stand steady. 

“You’re drunk?” Zack repeated in surprise. “How can you get drunk? You’re a SOLDIER!”

“SOLDIERs can’t get drunk?” Noctis asked.

Kunsel shook his head. “The mako in our systems treats alcohol the same way it treats any poison, and removes it before it can build up enough to have any effect.”

“You don’t have mako in your system, though,” Zack said, as though just remembering Noctis’s odd reaction to the SOLDIER treatments. “Your eyes don’t glow.” 

Noctis shrugged. “I guess.” He tugged against Cloud’s grip on his arm; cautiously Cloud released him and Noctis took a few relatively stable steps away. “All the more reason for me to call it a night. Thanks for the drinks.” He tossed them a wave and disappeared through the crowd toward the front door. 

Cloud stared absently after him. He knew he should be more interested in Noctis’s ongoing caginess and why he lied even about the reason he slept all the time. But at the moment all Cloud could think about was Genesis’s comment: _He’s really gotten paranoid._

Who was “he”? Who had the power to summon both Genesis and Sephiroth for such a last-minute schedule change, to overrule Sephiroth on anything— 

Oh. Abruptly several things clicked in Cloud’s head: Tseng mentioning the Vice President needing his attention on an internal matter, the glance Genesis and Sephiroth had shared in response. Lazard’s cut-off comment about the President last week during the coeurl mission briefing, his careful phrasing in its place: _The President has requested that one of them accompany him at all times, and both when traveling._

Unease curled in Cloud’s gut. What had gotten President ShinRa so paranoid that he was yanking his top SOLDIERs’ leashes like this? Did it have something to do with Noctis? ...No, that was unlikely - Genesis wouldn’t be hanging out with Noctis like this if it did, even if Genesis was trying to pump him for information. But if it wasn’t Noctis, then it meant something else had the President worried enough to play games with his travel times. 

Cloud couldn’t think of anything that might cause that, though. Hojo was dead, and anyway hadn’t ever threatened the President. Wutai was still licking its wounds from the war. AVALANCHE, or at least the original version of it, before Barret had taken over, was ramping up its operations, but in Cloud’s timeline even their threat hadn’t provoked such a response from ShinRa. At least not that Cloud had been aware of; he’d only just been beginning his cadet training at the time, so maybe he’d missed something— 

“Cloud!” Zack called, and thumped Cloud in the arm. “Dispatch to Cloud. You out there, buddy?” 

“I’m fine,” Cloud said automatically. He let Zack tug him back into his seat, but turned to Kunsel, who was watching him worriedly. Pitching his voice too low to be heard by anyone other than the two of them, Cloud said, “Have either of you heard anything about something going on with...” He cut himself off before saying _the President_. Sephiroth had made clear, when he’d picked up Genesis, that this was not a matter to be discussed in public. 

“With who?” Zack said. 

But Kunsel had apparently made the same connection Cloud had. He threw a glance over his shoulder to where Sephiroth and Genesis had left the bar, then shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything.”

Cloud’s eyebrows went up. Kunsel’s information network rivaled that of the Turks - for him to have heard nothing at all about an ongoing issue making the President himself paranoid was bizarre.

“What’s going on?” Zack demanded, looking between them. 

Cloud hesitated. “I’ll tell you later.” To Kunsel he added, “Can you find out?”

Kunsel’s jaw hardened beneath his helmet. “You bet I can.” 


	17. Flower Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeris meets a stranger dressed in black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird to think about Aeris being barely seventeen years old here. She was so young back then!

Aeris Gainsborough was having a good day. She’d hauled the little flower wagon Zack had made for her up to the Sector Eight upper plate, and had already sold more than half her stock of cut lilies. Her Mr. Nobody had pointed out that she could travel to the upper plates now to sell her flowers, since ShinRa was no longer interested in her and she didn’t have to hide anymore. It was a strange feeling, not being hunted, and the first few days she had spent up here she’d felt incredibly exposed. The sky, even choked with smog as it was, stretched vast and endless above her, leaving her feeling as though ShinRa could watch her from anywhere. The company’s massive headquarters building, towering in the center of the city, didn’t help that feeling in the slightest. 

But after three months of coming up here, she’d grown more used to the feeling of open sky overhead, and now she stood confidently in the street. A young couple, not much older than Aeris herself, stopped to look over her wagon. Aeris smiled at them and said in her chipper sales voice, “Do you like them? They’re only five gil each!” 

She’d figured out early on that she could charge more per flower on the upper plate than she’d ever been able to in the slums. For a slums dweller, one gil was a painful expense. Aeris had often given them the flower anyway; their smiles in the darkness of the slums were more important to her than the money. Plate dwellers, on the other hand, thought nothing of dropping five gil on frivolities, and the extra money more than offset the effort of hauling her wagon all the way up here. 

The topside couple in front of her now clearly had no problem with the price. They traded a look, the girl wide-eyed and delighted, the boy proud of his largesse as he pulled out his wallet and handed over the money. Aeris picked out a flower with a sturdy stem that could tuck neatly into a collar or a braid and gave it to the girl, then waved as the couple walked off. She was bending down to rearrange the remaining flowers in the cart when a familiar figure weaving through the post-lunch crowd caught her eye: black clothes, pale skin, dark hair in messy spikes. 

“Zack!” she called, and waved, but the figure didn’t seem to hear her. He was walking quickly, mostly hidden behind a group of businessmen hurrying back toward ShinRa, so Aeris stepped around the group to intercept him. “Zack—”

It wasn’t Zack. Aeris froze, caught off-guard by her mistake; now that she’d stopped him she wasn’t sure what to do. The man likewise stopped short, blinking in surprise at her. 

He definitely looked like her boyfriend, but he was several years older than Zack - in his early twenties maybe, a bit younger than Aeris’s Mr. Nobody. His eyes were a stormy grey behind his hair, and his black clothes weren’t the SOLDIER First Class uniform she’d thought they were - just a regular shirt, jacket, pants, and boots done all in black, and decorated with skulls and crossbones. An odd choice for clothing, since many people would probably make the same mistake Aeris had, but it wasn’t unheard-of, either. Lots of people liked the style and prestige of the SOLDIER Firsts. 

He was pretty clearly from Upper Midgar, too. Even if she hadn’t met him on an upper street, the way he held himself spoke of the confidence of the rich, rather than the hardscrabble desperation of slums dwellers. A ShinRa employee, maybe - he’d been walking toward their building, and from what Aeris knew of plate dwellers, if you were rich in Upper Midgar it was probably because you worked for ShinRa. 

“Uh…” the man said. 

“Sorry!” Aeris made herself stop staring, feeling an embarrassed blush rising to her face. “I thought you were someone else.” 

“I guess,” the man said. 

Something tugged at her awareness, then: the Planet, its quiet hum focusing on the man. _Self/planet/lifestream_ darted through her thoughts, and that was strange enough that instead of stepping out of his way and letting him get on with whatever he was doing, Aeris put on her polite sales smile. “Well, since I already interrupted your walk,” she said, “would you like to buy a flower? They’re only five gil each!”

She gestured toward her cart, and the man turned to look. His face lit up when he saw the blossoms. “I didn’t think there were any flowers in the whole city,” he said.

“There aren’t many,” Aeris said. “But there’s an old church down in the Sector Five slums where they like to grow. Come on! Take a look.” 

He followed her back to the cart, and Aeris used the short walk to study him further. The Planet seemed to think of him as a sort of… sibling, almost, but that didn’t make any sense at all. By all appearances, he was a person, not another Planet or anything like one. He didn’t have mako eyes, so he wasn’t a SOLDIER, infused with mako - but even Zack, SOLDIER First Class, didn’t feel like this. The closest thing she could think of was how the Planet viewed Mr. Nobody, aka Cloud Strife. The Planet saw him as both Calamity and Weapon, though she wasn’t entirely sure what either of those meant. She could hear the voice of the Planet, but that didn’t mean she always knew what it was talking about. 

Still, even Weapon wasn’t the right concept for how the Planet thought of the young man in front of her now. She kept watching as he crouched beside her wagon to look through the flowers, but he didn’t do anything interesting, just touched the petals of one flower with careful reverence. 

She was trying to figure out how to ask him what he was without giving away her own heritage, when the man stood back up and turned to face her. “Do you have any blue ones?” he asked. 

“Blue?” Aeris repeated, startled out of her musings. “I’m afraid not - they grow yellow and white, mostly.” 

“Oh,” he said. The excitement that had flashed on his face at his first sight of her flowers was gone, replaced by something almost sad. 

“Is blue your favorite color?” she asked.

He shook his head, his grey eyes going distant. “No,” he said quietly. “My, uh. My…” A deep breath, not quite a sigh. “My fiancé. She loved blue flowers.” 

_ Loved _ , not _loves_. Aeris wasn’t a mind reader like Mr. Nobody had once accused her of being, but she didn’t need to be one to catch what the words and the grief in his expression meant. “I’m sorry,” she offered gently. 

He nodded once, an acknowledgement of her words. “She had a whole field of them,” he said, his gaze still fixed somewhere far away. “She liked to tell me how they were growing.”

“What kind of flowers?” Aeris asked. “They sound beautiful.” 

“Sylleblossoms,” he answered. “They’re blue, and, uh… kind of triangle-shaped, and…” He gestured vaguely. “Um.” Then he twitched like something had just occurred to him. “I can show you,” he offered shyly. “She left one for me.” 

“I’d love to see it,” Aeris said. 

He turned away from her for a moment, and when he turned back, he held a slim, battered red notebook in one hand. Aeris had no idea where he’d been keeping it; it was too big to fit in any of the visible pockets of his jacket. It was expensive-looking, too, with a leather cover, delicate gold embossing on the front, and gilt on the edges of the heavy vellum pages. 

The man flipped the notebook open and angled it toward her, showing her a blue flower with a long green stem that had been pressed between two pages. “It _is_ beautiful,” Aeris breathed. She leaned closer, studying the delicate pattern of vivid blue petals. There were odd blotches on the page around the flower and for a moment she thought the flower had been pressed badly, before realizing what the spots actually were. 

“You loved her a lot, didn’t you,” Aeris said softly.

He nodded again. There were more tears in his eyes, though he blinked them away before they could fall on the notebook. 

Aeris looked back at the pressed flower, giving him a moment to compose himself. Then something caught her eye. “Oh!” she said. “Look, it still has seeds on it.” 

“Huh?” The man looked confused, so Aeris pointed to the seam where the petals met the stem, where she had spotted tiny black seeds. She didn’t usually dry flowers for seeds - if she was careful with planting and cutting, her gardens were mostly self-seeding - but her adoptive mother had shown her how. 

An idea occurred to her abruptly, and she looked up at the man. “If you don’t mind letting me take the seeds,” she said, “I could try planting them. I can’t promise anything, of course, but if it works, you’d have sylleblossoms again.” 

“You can do that?” he asked, and the flash of grief and hope in his eyes tugged at Aeris’s heart. Whatever he was, Planet-sibling or no, she hated seeing someone look as sad as he had when talking about his fiancé. 

“Well, like I said, I can’t promise anything,” she warned. “If the seeds have been dry for too long, they might not grow. But I’d like to try, if you’re all right with it!” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Um, what do you—how do you…” 

“I need an envelope,” Aeris said, and patted her pockets, then leaned down to poke in the wagon. She thought she remembered someone handing her a flyer for the latest showing of _Loveless_ that might work. 

There was a sound of tearing paper, and Aeris looked up to see the young man holding out a blank page torn from the back of the notebook. The part of her that had grown up in the slums, counting every gil and praying that she and her mother could make ends meet each week, winced internally at the casual damage to a notebook that probably cost as much as she could make in a month of flower selling. But she tucked that away and took the page, letting herself marvel at its gilded edges as she folded it into an envelope. 

“Here, hold this steady,” she told the man, and angled the notebook in his hands. Then, as gently as she could, she brushed the seeds loose from the pressed flower and into the makeshift envelope. They were tiny, but she managed to collect enough that she was reasonably sure she could get one to grow. Folding the envelope tightly shut, she tucked it into a pocket. “There,” she said, satisfied.

The man watched her, that wary hope in his eyes. “How long will it take? For them to grow?” 

“I don’t know,” Aeris admitted. “A few months, maybe longer. It can be hard to say with flowers. Come back again in a few months, and I’ll let you know how they’re doing!” 

He glanced around at the shops and bright billboards along both sides of the street. “Here?” 

“Yep!” Aeris gave him her sunniest smile, and was rewarded when he smiled shyly back. “You can come back before then, too, of course. I’m up here selling flowers most days.” 

He nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll do that. And, um.” He rubbed the back of his head, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before he seemed to remember himself and stood up straight. “Thank you,” he said solemnly. 

“You’re very welcome!” Aeris answered. 

He smiled again at her, then plucked a flower from her wagon and dropped a wadded bill in its place. With a wave, he headed up the sidewalk toward the ShinRa building, flower held close to his heart. 

Aeris reached down absently to pick up the bill and smooth it out so she could tuck it into the little money belt she wore under her jacket - then froze in surprise. It wasn’t the five-gil note she’d expected, but a full hundred-gil bill. She looked around quickly, but the man was already gone, vanished into the crowd flowing along the streets. Then again, thinking about the hope in his eyes when she’d told him she might be able to grow the sylleblossom seeds, maybe the money hadn’t been a mistake on his part after all. 

She slipped the bill into her belt. An elderly woman was walking up to her cart, leaning on an ornate hardwood cane and squinting through her jeweled reading glasses at the flowers, so Aeris put on her sales smile again. “Would you like to buy a flower?” she chirped. “Only five gil!” 


	18. The President's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kunsel uncovers one secret, and Sephiroth reveals another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who didn't read TFA, or just forgot: Hojo identifies Cloud as one of President ShinRa's bastard sons while he has Cloud trapped in Nibelheim. Cloud hates it with all his being, but it does explain his distinctive blond hair and his mother's hatred for his father.

A week after Noctis’s promotion to Second Class, Cloud was headed for the mess hall to grab a late lunch when Kunsel found him. “Hey,” Kunsel said. “I’m starving. Mind if I join you for lunch?” 

Something in the tone of his voice gave Cloud pause, but he couldn’t read anything past the mirrored faceplate of Kunsel’s ever-present helmet. “...Sure,” he said cautiously. 

“Great!” Kunsel grinned and fell into step beside him, headed for the mess hall. “How was your mission this morning?” 

Cloud shrugged. “Just vargids.” 

“Boring,” Kunsel said. He kept up the small talk as they made their way through the food line, long enough for Cloud to realize that whatever Kunsel wanted, he didn’t want to talk about it in public. Which meant there was only one thing Kunsel could want to talk about. 

They filled their trays, and Kunsel led Cloud over to a table in a secluded corner, tucked away behind a thick pillar. Only then did he stop chattering and glance around twice. “Okay,” he murmured. “I think we’re clear.” 

“You found out what’s going on with the President?” Cloud asked, equally quiet. 

Kunsel nodded. “But it doesn’t make any sense.” Cloud raised an eyebrow, and Kunsel continued, “Apparently the President’s been having… He claims they’re ‘prophetic visions’, but Dr. Meridian thinks they’re ordinary nightmares.” 

Dr. Meridian was the scientist Lazard had wanted Cloud to talk to. Instantly Cloud’s hackles rose, though not just because of the Science Department’s meddling. “Nightmares?” 

“Weird, right?” Kunsel said. “Apparently all these nightmares the President is having involve his death - and the destruction of ShinRa. He seems to think he’s been gifted the power of the Ancients.” 

Cloud’s eyebrows went higher. 

Kunsel shrugged. “Look, everyone in ShinRa knows that the President has always been a little crazy with all his talk of the Promised Land and immortality. But now, my contact thinks Hojo’s death and the loss of all the promises Hojo was making pushed the President over the edge into outright paranoia.” 

“That’s why he’s yanking Sephiroth and Genesis’s chains,” Cloud guessed. “He’s realizing he’s mortal and he’s going to die someday, but he thinks he can stave it off by having Firsts guard him everywhere he goes.” 

“Pretty much,” Kunsel agreed. “But of course, they can’t let anyone in the company know the President’s delusional, so they’re keeping it hush-hush.” 

“They?” Cloud asked. “The Science Department?”

Kunsel shook his head. “When I say they’re keeping it quiet, I mean, I could find one person who would even talk to me about this, and then only in vague hints. I’m not sure they knew much more than those hints, anyway. I pieced the rest together by looking at calendar invitations to meetings and badge records for who’s going to whose offices when, and burning a favor to get access to Dr. Meridian’s email account.”

“Who is this Dr. Meridian, anyway?” Cloud asked. “Lazard said he wanted to talk to me a while back.”

“She,” Kunsel corrected. “She’s probably going to be promoted to Director of the Science Department at the next board meeting.”

“One of Hojo’s apprentices?” Cloud said, the words coming out bitter despite himself. Even the mention of the man’s name made his skin prickle, his throat burn with the memory of mako. 

But Kunsel shook his head again. “She was hired by the Vice President a couple of months ago. She was a school friend of his.” His voice lowered. “Sephiroth apparently made it… _really_ … clear that he wouldn’t tolerate anyone affiliated with Hojo being anywhere near a position of control over the Science Department.” 

Cloud couldn’t help but snort at that. Kunsel grinned back, a quick flash of teeth beneath his helmet, before sobering again. “That doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous, though,” he warned. “There are maybe five or six people in the entire company who know anything about this, counting the President himself, and Sephiroth and Genesis. Dr. Meridian is one of them, meaning she’s trusted at the highest level. Don’t underestimate her.”

“Does Lazard know?” Cloud asked, remembering how the director had watched him weeks ago after Noctis’s first mission. 

“Not that I could tell,” Kunsel said. “Other than Sephiroth and Genesis, no one in SOLDIER—” 

The back of Cloud’s neck prickled again and he held up a hand, silencing Kunsel. That wasn’t just residual nerves at the thought of Hojo and his experiments. Someone was watching them. 

Then Reno stepped around the corner of the pillar that hid their table from the rest of the room. He was smiling, though his hands were in the pockets of his suit and Cloud couldn’t help tensing when he pulled one hand out. But all Reno did was wave lazily at them. “Yo!” he called. “There you are. I was just looking for you two.”

“For us?” Kunsel asked. He sounded perfectly innocent and confused, like they hadn’t just been discussing the possibility of ShinRa’s president having lost all touch with reality. 

“Yep.” Reno strolled up to them, slinging a casual arm around Kunsel’s shoulders - though Cloud noticed that his other hand stayed in his pocket the whole time. Cloud’s own fingers itched to reach for First Tsurugi, but he made himself hold still. Reno was being cautious, not threatening - yet - and Cloud needed to not escalate the situation. Instead, he asked in as calm a voice as he could manage, “What do you want?” 

“So,” Reno said casually. “Firsts like you two probably know the company has been running some highly classified missions lately, yeah?” 

“We noticed,” Cloud agreed, keeping his tone neutral. 

Reno bobbed his head in assent. “Word is there’s someone inside SOLDIER asking around about those _highly classified_ missions. Poking his nose way above a SOLDIER’s paygrade.” 

Kunsel glanced at Cloud, the movement barely noticeable beneath his helmet, though his mouth had gone tight. “And?”

“And the bossman wanted me to pass along that SOLDIERs should keep their noses where they belong. Let the Turks handle internal affairs. SOLDIERs should stick to monster-killing.” He grinned at Kunsel, then Cloud, friendly as a Nibel wolf. “If you happen to hear anyone asking questions they shouldn’t, you’ll pass along the message for us. Right?” 

“Of course,” Kunsel said, and Cloud nodded. 

“‘Preciate it,” Reno said. He let go of Kunsel and sauntered back out into the mess hall. “See you around, yo.” 

Cloud and Kunsel watched him leave. Not until he’d disappeared around the pillar did Kunsel say, “Well, that wasn’t subtle at all.” 

“Nope,” Cloud agreed. Pitching his voice low, he added, “And it’s bad news. It means Rufus is involved, too.” 

Kunsel shot him a startled look. “The Vice President? I thought he might know about the situation, just because the president is his father and all, but…” 

“The Turks answer to Rufus, not the President,” Cloud said. “I don’t know exactly when that started, but in my timeline, even before he became President, when a Turk said ‘boss’ they meant Rufus.”

“And Rufus wouldn’t protect his father’s secret,” Kunsel said, dawning horror in the words. "Not like this. He’s too ambitious. That’s why he’s telling us to back off - he doesn’t want Lazard to know. If Lazard finds out…”

Cloud’s breath caught as he followed the logic. President ShinRa had never been much of a danger in and of himself, obsessed with the Promised Land as he was. It was the people around him, the people to whom he granted power to aid his search, that had been the real danger. Rufus, Hojo, Scarlet, Heidegger, the Turks. And Rufus ShinRa - young, ambitious, and highly intelligent - was one of the most dangerous. Not only was he the vice president, but the Turks were loyal to him, and would support his ambition for the sake of the power he promised them. 

Lazard, on the other hand, was equally ambitious and intelligent, but overlooked by nearly everyone in ShinRa. Cloud knew next to nothing about him, just that he’d been dead by the time Cloud had started being a person again after Nibelheim. But in this new timeline he’d proven himself more durable. He had the loyalty of most of SOLDIER’s rank and file, if not its Firsts. He’d suggested sedition to Cloud within a few months of Cloud’s arrival, and clearly hadn’t given up his plans. If the President was sliding outright into delusion, no longer able to run his company, and Lazard found out… “This could mean war inside ShinRa,” Cloud whispered.

“Shit,” Kunsel said eloquently.

Cloud rubbed a hand over his mouth, trying to think. This kind of intra-company politicking was well outside his experience, but he’d dealt with Rufus a lot more than all his friends in this timeline. “Rufus won’t make a move yet,” he said finally. “Not until he’s completely confident in his position.”

“No,” Kunsel agreed. “He’ll be gathering support in the background, though. Shit,” he muttered again. “This puts a lot of things I’ve been hearing into context.” 

“We need to talk to Sephiroth,” Cloud said, then amended, “ _I_ need to talk to Sephiroth. You need to see if you can find out whether Lazard knows what’s going on and is rallying support of his own.” 

“Yeah,” Kunsel said. He looked down at his plate and sighed. “But let’s finish lunch first. I don’t want to deal with this on an empty stomach.” 

* * *

“We need to talk,” Cloud said without preamble as he stepped into Sephiroth’s office an hour later.

Sephiroth looked up from where he sat behind his desk. The pretense of not being aware of Cloud’s presence was just that - a pretense; he would have sensed Cloud coming from four or five floors down. Probably further, given how wound up Cloud was right now. But it was part of the fiction they maintained that kept Cloud from trying to kill him - that their connection didn’t mean they were intimately aware of where the other was at all times. 

“Yes,” Sephiroth said, his voice calm. “We do.”

That was… unexpected. Cloud frowned at him and shut the door, no matter how much the phantom wound in his chest from Masamune screamed at him to leave himself a way out. It was too dangerous to risk being overheard. “You first.” 

Sephiroth set down the sheaf of papers he held and gestured with one long-fingered hand. “No, I suspect this will be more productive if you start.”

Cloud scowled at him. “You know why I’m here.”

“I do,” Sephiroth agreed mildly. 

“The president is going crazy and Rufus is going to start a civil war with Lazard for control of the company,” Cloud snapped. “And you didn’t think the rest of us should know?” 

“I’m under orders not to reveal the president’s… state of mind to anyone,” Sephiroth said. “Still, I had no doubt that Commander Kunsel would uncover the truth soon enough.”

“Aren’t you going to _do_ anything about it?” Cloud demanded. “You’re the general of SOLDIER. You could—”

“Could what?” Sephiroth cut him off, green eyes flashing with the first annoyance Cloud had seen from him. “I’m hardly sitting idle. But I wasn’t trained in politics, as Genesis likes to point out.”

“Then what are you doing?”

Sephiroth didn’t answer right away, leaning back in his chair and studying Cloud for a moment. Then he said, “Have you considered inviting Kunsel to bunk with you? The two of you are quite close, and you seem to sleep better in his presence.”

“Wh—How I sleep has nothing to do with this!” Cloud snarled. 

“No?” Sephiroth’s gaze was unforgiving. “The president dreams of being killed by his own creations. By _me._ ”

Cloud scoffed. “He wouldn’t bring you as a bodyguard if that was true.”

“Rufus ShinRa is the one who assigns me to guard his father,” Sephiroth said mildly. “The president himself would prefer only Genesis.” 

“So what?” Cloud said. “So he dreams about being killed by you. That doesn’t have anything to do with me. Maybe he’s afraid of what you’ll do without Hojo around to keep you in line. You _did_ kill him in my timeline.”

“The only person alive now who knows that is you,” Sephiroth pointed out. He touched a hand lightly to the center of his chest, the same place as the phantom memory of Masamune in Cloud’s own chest. “Perhaps more to the point, the scenarios he describes are remarkably… _familiar._ ” 

“He can’t see my dreams,” Cloud protested. “You can because of our… our _connection_ , but the president doesn’t have S-cells.”

“You may not have a connection to him through Jenova,” Sephiroth said, his voice studiously blank. “But you do have a genetic connection to him.” 

Cloud stared at him. 

Sephiroth returned the stare, waiting. Finally Cloud burst out, “That’s not—I’m not—I can’t—” The words tangled on his tongue and he fell silent again, horror churning his gut. 

“Like it or not,” Sephiroth said, still carefully neutral, “you’re the president’s son. Such a blood connection, combined with your S-cells, is apparently enough for your dreams to carry to him.”

“You knew,” Cloud realized suddenly. “You knew, before this. That’s what you wanted to talk to me about.” 

Sephiroth nodded. 

“Why the _hell_ didn’t you tell me?!” 

“I tried,” Sephiroth said. “You cut me off and told me you didn’t need pity. I decided it would be unproductive to attempt to continue the conversation at that time.” 

Cloud stared at him for several more seconds before remembering the conversation in the hall outside his apartment a week ago, when Sephiroth had spent the night on Cloud’s doorstep. “That’s not what I—I didn’t—!” he sputtered.

Sephiroth sighed and put his head in his hands, fingers combing through his stupid long bangs. The gesture, and the clear frustration behind it, were almost painfully human. When he looked back up at Cloud, his eyes were tired. “I understand why you hate me. I’m not asking to be friends. But I would appreciate it if you occasionally gave me the benefit of the doubt.” He stood up, the gesture a dismissal. “And if you would consider keeping Commander Kunsel close by, to avoid further upsetting the president.” 

Cloud backed out of the room, then fled the office block toward his apartment, nausea rising in his throat. _Gaia_ , his dreams affecting _President ShinRa?!_ He’d thought his nightmares were harmless - or at least, didn’t affect anyone other than him. But if Sephiroth was right… 

Cloud’s nightmares were about to start a civil war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Sephiroth has known about the nightmares thing for a while. Yes, he considered telling Cloud before the failed attempt he mentions here. No, he didn't succeed thanks to Cloud snapping at him. Yes, he's as frustrated about it as Cloud, and glad Cloud finally figured it out. XD


	19. Caught on Camera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Firsts compare notes, and notice yet another strange thing about Noctis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about adding chapter titles to this fic, mostly so I can find my way through the chapters faster. Do y'all like chapter titles, or should I stick with numbers?

“I’m going to kill him,” Cloud snarled for the fifth time as he paced the length of his apartment’s living room.

“Cloud, no,” Kunsel said, also for the fifth time. He sat at the bar, his helmet off, his head in his hands. More from frustration at Cloud than anything else, Cloud suspected, but even that wasn’t enough to help him calm down. The thought that _President ShinRa_ of all people could see his nightmares - had been seeing them for weeks or months now - made him want to be violently ill. Or maybe just violent. 

He wasn’t even sure who he wanted to kill. Sephiroth, for not telling Cloud sooner? Rufus, for being the kind of scheming asshole to start a war while taking over his father’s company? The President, for… what, existing? Fathering Cloud? Cloud groaned and flopped lengthwise onto the couch, throwing an arm across his eyes.

Footsteps on the carpet, then Kunsel sat down beside Cloud’s knees. “If you think it would help,” he said cautiously, “I wouldn’t mind sleeping in here for a while. If you’re okay with it.” 

“Yeah,” Cloud muttered, then lifted his arm enough to look Kunsel in the eye. “If _you’re_ okay with it.”

“I just said I was, doofus,” Kunsel said, swatting Cloud’s knee lightly. “Hopefully it’ll be enough to… to calm things down.” 

“Yeah,” Cloud said again. He sighed, letting his arm fall back over his eyes. 

Kunsel drew breath as though about to speak, but a knock on the door interrupted him. Without moving, Cloud growled, “Go away.” 

But the door opened instead, and two pairs of familiar footsteps clattered over the tile of the entryway. “Cloud!” Zack called. “There you are.” 

“Go _away_ ,” Cloud muttered again.

“Not until you tell us what’s got you so upset that Sephiroth is snappish,” Genesis said primly. He caught Cloud’s arm by the wrist and pulled it away from his face, blue eyes meeting Cloud’s own. “We’re your friends, Cloud. Talk to us.” 

Cloud glared at him. “You would know,” he snapped, then yanked his arm free and covered his eyes again. 

“Ah, yes,” Genesis retorted. “With my heretofore unknown psychic powers, I have uncovered all of the mysteries of a grumpy Cloud.” 

“Did Genesis do something?” Zack asked. From the sound of his voice, he’d circled the couch and was now leaning over the back of it.

Cloud didn’t answer. Kunsel seemed to take that as permission, though, because he quickly explained what he’d figured out about the president, the likelihood of Rufus and Lazard going to war for control of ShinRa, and Sephiroth’s suggestion that Cloud’s nightmares were playing a role in the president’s delusions. 

“You know all that’s highly classified,” Genesis said when Kunsel had finished. He’d perched on the arm of the couch above Cloud’s head, and one of his heels thumped a steady rhythm against the cushions. 

“We know,” Kunsel admitted. “Reno from the Turks made a point of reminding us. That means you can’t say anything about it to anyone, either,” he added pointedly to Zack. 

“A guy hands out his access code to help out friends and suddenly everyone thinks he’s going to leak state secrets,” Zack said, but he sounded more amused than annoyed. He nudged Cloud’s elbow. “That really sucks, though.”

“If I’d known about the nightmares aspect of this whole mess,” Genesis said, “I would have told you sooner, Cloud. But Sephiroth chose not to share that particular detail with me.” 

Cloud lifted his arm so he could look up at Genesis in surprise. “He didn’t?” 

Genesis shook his head. “Now I understand why he was so upset with me keeping secrets during the war,” he said. His hand drifted up to his shoulder, the location of the injury from a training match two years ago that had caused his degradation to kick in. 

“No more secrets,” Cloud said firmly. “We talk about this. We need to be ready.” 

“Agreed,” Genesis said, and both Kunsel and Zack nodded. 

“There’s not much we can do right now, though,” Kunsel said reluctantly. “Telling Lazard, if he doesn’t already know, might blow everything up early.” 

Genesis nodded. “The best thing to do right now is to keep quiet and not rock the boat.” He nudged Cloud with his boot. “Can you do anything about your nightmares? Is there a range on your ability to share them? Maybe if you go on a very long, very remote mission—”

But Kunsel shook his head. “The president has been traveling around the world for the last few weeks. Either range isn’t an issue, or even one or two while he’s back here is enough to keep him spooked.” Genesis opened his mouth to say something else and Kunsel added over him, “Cloud and I already have a plan to try to stop his nightmares. With any luck, it’ll work and the president will stabilize again.” 

Genesis looked between Cloud and Kunsel, eyes narrowed. “And what, exactly, is this plan? You _just_ said no more secrets,” he added pointedly when neither of them answered right away.

Kunsel gave Cloud a look that clearly said _You tell him._ Cloud sighed. “Kunsel’s going to bunk in here for a while.” 

Genesis’s mouth opened, closed, and opened again; then he huffed and crossed his arms. “I see.” 

Cloud rolled his eyes. That was the beginning of a Genesis fit - he’d have to kick Genesis out soon before his moodiness made everyone else cranky. Then Zack surprised him by saying, “So that’s settled. In the meantime, we’ve got something else for you guys. I know this thing with the president is scary and all, but he’s not the only weird thing going on.” 

“What do you mean?” Kunsel asked.

“Genesis noticed something weird about Noctis’s fan club,” Zack said excitedly.

“Noctis has a fan club?” Cloud said, though the moment he said it he realized it wasn’t actually that surprising. Noctis had been promoted to Second quickly, always a good way to catch the eye of SOLDIER fans; and on top of that, he was extremely good-looking. Cloud was hardly a great judge of physical attractiveness, but even he was aware that Noctis’s pale skin, stark black hair, and stormcloud eyes made for a striking combination. It would’ve been a bigger surprise if he hadn’t had a fan club.

“Yeah,” Kunsel said, and, right, Kunsel was a member of all the SOLDIER fan clubs. He’d said it was a good way to keep up on the latest gossip. “They call themselves the Royal Guard.” 

“The Royal Guard?” Cloud repeated skeptically. “Where’d they get a name like that?” 

“They have a theory that Noctis is a Wutai prince - possibly an exiled son of Lord Godo,” Kunsel said, “or even his bastard brother.”

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad theory, given the lack of information the fan club was working from. Cloud remembered his own trip to Wutai with Noctis, his oddly formal and diplomatic words, the almost regal manner with which he’d carried himself. Still… “Did you tell them Noctis is from the east?” 

“I think Noctis is the kind of guy who wouldn’t want his real past shouted to his fan club,” Kunsel said. “And anyway, the clubs like to speculate. This one’s a pretty harmless theory.”

“And it’s not the interesting part.” Zack thumped Genesis on the arm. “Tell them what you noticed.” 

As a tactic to bring Genesis out of his sulk, it was surprisingly effective. He dug out his PHS and leaned over so Cloud and Kunsel could both see the screen. “These are the photos his fan club has collected of him,” Genesis said, flipping rapidly through a sequence of images. “Notice anything strange?” 

“Uh… the photographer is really terrible?” Cloud guessed. All the pictures were shots of Noctis in action on missions - Cloud recognized several of the later ones he’d accompanied Noctis on - but they were all badly framed in some way. Noctis’s face hidden behind the flat of his broadsword, his head and torso obscured by a pillar, Noctis turned away so only the back of his head was visible. 

“Actually,” Kunsel said slowly, “she’s not. I know her username - she’s in Angeal’s fan club, too, and she takes the best photos of him his club has.” 

“And no, it’s not a coincidence, either,” Genesis added, cutting off Cloud’s next question. “It’s quite difficult for the subject of such photos to maintain that level of awareness of potential photographic angles, much less react to them to guarantee the desired shot.”

Cloud snorted. “You would know.”

“Exactly!” Genesis said, with a flourish of his PHS. “The photos aren’t bad because the photographer is - they’re bad because Noctis is deliberately hiding his face.” 

“Why would he do that?” Cloud asked.

“I have no idea,” Genesis admitted, “but he’s uncannily good at it.”

Kunsel pulled the PHS out of Genesis’s hand to study the photos more closely. “Anti-sniper, maybe?” he suggested. 

Genesis shook his head. “That might be a part of it, but it’s primarily about keeping his face out of photos,” he said. Leaning across Cloud, he pointed at a particular image. “See, there? If he thought the photographer was a sniper, he’d have protected his entire head, probably with that pillar. But he’s only turning his face away.” 

“It’s _all_ of his photos, too,” Zack said. “His fans celebrate when they manage to get a shot of even half his face.” 

“What do you think it means?” Cloud asked.

“He doesn’t want his face captured on camera, and he’s clearly had a lot of practice avoiding it,” Kunsel said. “He’s hiding something.”

“Or hiding _from_ something,” Genesis added ominously. 

“We should ask him about it,” Zack said. “Whoever sees him next.”

“If you think he’ll give you a straight answer, then by all means,” Genesis said, his voice dry. “But—”

“Hey, look,” Kunsel interrupted. He’d still been flipping through the photos on Genesis’s PHS while they talked. “Someone just uploaded a whole new batch from this morning. They’re all the same, too,” he added, thumbing rapidly through the set. “Still hiding his—”

Then he stopped abruptly, his face going white. 

“What’s wrong?” Cloud demanded. 

Wordlessly Kunsel held out the PHS so they could see the screen. The picture it held looked innocuous at first: a shot through a window of two men sitting at a table in a cafe. One of them was clearly Noctis Lucis Caelum, despite being turned mostly away from the camera; Cloud recognized his spiky hair and the all-black clothes and mismatched boots he’d been wearing when Cloud first met him.

The other man was Rufus ShinRa. 

“What?” Zack asked. “So he’s meeting with the vice president. Why’s that such a big deal?” 

“Think about what we were talking about earlier,” Genesis said. “About the likelihood of a war between Rufus and Lazard.”

“So?” Zack said. He looked between Kunsel and Cloud, clearly confused. 

“So,” Kunsel said in exasperation, “this means Rufus is trying to usurp SOLDIERs from Lazard. If he succeeds, it’s not just ShinRa that’ll go to war with itself - it’s SOLDIER.” 

Zack frowned at the photo. “They’re just getting coffee,” he pointed out. “What makes you think Rufus is trying to recruit him?” 

“What else could it be?” Genesis said with a wave of one hand. “Knowing what we know—”

“Actually, it could be one other thing,” Kunsel interrupted thoughtfully. “What kind of person doesn’t want their face in photos, ever?”

“A spy,” Cloud said, then got it. “You think Noctis is a spy for Rufus inside SOLDIER?” 

“Why would he need one, though?” Zack asked. “Rufus ShinRa is the vice president. If he wants to know anything about what’s going on inside SOLDIER, he just needs to read the reports.” 

“True,” Kunsel admitted. “And if Rufus wanted to plant a spy inside SOLDIER, there are better ways of doing it than what Noctis has been up to. We’re all curious about him and trying to figure out what his deal is - you don’t want a spy generating that kind of attention.” 

“Unless that’s his goal,” Cloud said. Remembering Rufus in a wheelchair, feigning weakness and sending the Turks on a wild goose chase to distract Kadaj from the fact that he was carrying Jenova’s remains in his lap. “Keep us all busy trying to figure out Noctis, while Rufus prepares his coup.” 

“That’s not any better,” Genesis said grimly. “If Rufus succeeds…” He shook his head, then met Cloud’s eyes. “We’d better hope your plan to stop your nightmares works, or ShinRa will tear itself apart from the inside out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to commenter Oro for correctly predicting the name of Noct's fan club!
> 
> Also, the thing with Noct and photos is based half on the fact that he canonically hates and avoids paparazzi, to the point where most Lucians don't recognize their own Crown Prince; and half on the fact that my beta's Prompto only ever gets photos of Noctis where he's hiding his face. XD


	20. The Price of Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected rooftop meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a nearly unanimous vote for chapter titles, so now we have chapter titles. :)

Six months ago, Angeal would have said there was nothing good about being a monster. His body had been falling apart beneath him, twisting into new and increasingly hideous shapes, and even his actions had become monstrous. Kidnapping Cloud for Hollander, refusing to release him even when he begged, holding him down while he fought desperately to escape… No, Angeal had hated everything he’d become then, and still hated it now. 

But sometimes, in the privacy of his own mind, he could admit flying had been nice. 

It had been his lone freedom in a world rapidly closing in around him, his only means of escape. Flight was the only thing he missed about his degrading body: the ability to just… take off, to get above everything, high enough above the Planet that even his immense burdens had finally seemed small. Now that Cloud had cured him and he had to live with what he’d done, Angeal sometimes wished he could fly again, to escape the new burdens his actions had placed upon him. 

Like now. He’d been on his way back to his apartment in the tower when he’d heard voices coming from the far end of the hall: Cloud’s rooms. ShinRa soundproofing was good, but Angeal’s mako-enhanced hearing was better; he’d been able to pick out Genesis and Zack’s voices amidst the chatter. Even though Angeal knew it was his own fault he’d never be able to join them in gatherings like that again - not when both Genesis and Zack wanted to spend time with Cloud, and Cloud would silently leave the room whenever Angeal entered it - the loneliness of it still hurt. 

He might not be able to fly anymore, but he’d learned that the next-best thing was getting up somewhere high - and not just the upper floors of ShinRa Tower, cushy and filled with snooty executives who didn’t care about the human toll of their quest to conquer the Planet. When he’d had wings, he’d explored the outer parts of the tower, looking for places where he could spy on his friends and - something else he’d never admit to anyone - imagine he was still worthy to join them. He’d found a few good perches that way, and it was to one of those perches he was climbing now. 

It was a small flat area on top of the barrel-like round structure which housed the power centers of the building, next to one of the enormous mako pipes which snaked around the tower. It wasn’t the highest point Angeal had found, but it was the only one accessible without wings - at least, accessible for someone who had a SOLDIER’s strength and wasn’t particularly afraid of falling forty floors to his death. He’d gone out onto the balcony on the front of the barrel structure, leaped fifteen feet up to get a grip on a protruding metal seam, then carefully picked his way up the face of the building. The sun was setting, casting the sky in brilliant pinks and oranges, but the light was more than enough for the climb. Now, Angeal grabbed another seam and hauled himself up over the last ledge - and froze in surprise.

Someone else was up here. 

A figure dressed in the purple uniform of a SOLDIER Second Class sat with his back to Angeal, his legs dangling over the flat edge of the barrel’s far end with complete disregard for the deadly plunge below. One of his hands hovered just over the surface of one of the many smaller pipes that ran along the outside of the tower; his other hand held something in his lap which Angeal couldn’t see. His head was bowed, his face hidden by the angle and the fall of his hair, but Angeal had no doubt who it was. Since Zack had made First, there was only one Second with that particular style of spiky black hair. 

“Caelum?” Angeal asked. 

Caelum startled so hard Angeal almost thought he was going to fall off the building, but he caught his balance and twisted around to look at Angeal with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” Angeal said. “Just me. Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s fine,” Caelum said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. Now that he’d turned, Angeal could see he was holding his Thunder materia in his other hand. “I, uh. Wasn’t expecting anyone else up here.” 

“Likewise,” Angeal said. He nodded toward the materia. “What were you doing?” 

Caelum glanced down at his hand. “Meditating. Rhapsodos has been riding my ass about using materia ‘correctly’, so…” He trailed off with a shrug, slotting the materia absently back into his bracer. 

“ _Commander_ Rhapsodos,” Angeal reminded him, though as usual the only response was another shrug. 

“What about you?” Caelum asked. Angeal frowned, and Caelum clarified, “What are you doing up here? It’s not exactly an easy place to get to.” 

“No, it’s not,” Angeal agreed. “I just… like to get away from things, sometimes.” 

“Oh.” Caelum scooted back from the edge and climbed to his feet. “I can leave.” 

“You don’t have to,” Angeal said automatically, though in truth he didn’t want to share his own meditation spot with someone else. 

Thankfully, Caelum just said, “I was almost done anyway.” 

He bent down to grab a sword that had been lying next to him; as he lifted it, Angeal realized it wasn’t the standard-issue SOLDIER broadsword, but something slightly shorter and more curved. “New sword?” he asked.

Caelum nodded. “Rufus gave it to me. I think he got the crest from my jacket or something.” He held out the sword, letting Angeal get a better look. 

The sword was elegant and graceful; its blade shimmered with the ethereal glow of mythril, highlighting the delicate wing-like patterns etched along its surface. Its crossguard was an elaborate skull-and-crossbones made of some black metal, the bones extending out to form the guards while the skull added heft and balance to the hilt. It was clearly both well-made and very expensive, and then the rest of Caelum’s words caught up to Angeal. 

“Rufus?” Angeal asked in surprise. “Rufus _ShinRa_ gave you this?” And Caelum was on a first-name basis with the man?

Caelum nodded and slung the sword onto his back, the hilt attaching to the magnetic holster there with a soft click. “Said it was a welcome present. Thanks for joining ShinRa, congrats for making Second so fast, and all that.” He paused, then looked up at Angeal from beneath his bangs. In the conflicting green and orange glows of the mako lights and the sunset, his stormcloud eyes looked almost silver, and very intense. “He wanted to let me know he appreciates SOLDIER’s hard work for the good of the company.” 

Something about his voice and the way he was looking at Angeal made Angeal abruptly uneasy. “I’m sure he does,” he agreed warily. “Though he doesn’t usually express it quite so… extravagantly.” 

“He’s the Vice President,” Caelum said, his voice carefully neutral. “He’s going to run this country someday. You can’t run a country without the loyalty of its soldiers.” 

Angeal studied Caelum for a moment. The man’s stormy eyes were unreadable behind his hair, but there was something about his posture, his expression, that made Angeal feel almost small. As though Caelum was Rufus ShinRa himself, one of the most powerful men in the world and utterly aware of that fact. And the way he’d said that… it was as though he knew it from experience. 

Before Angeal could decide how to respond, Caelum deliberately looked away, toward the edge of the platform. “I should go. Sorry for stealing your spot.” 

“Not a problem,” Angeal said automatically. “Take care.” 

Caelum nodded, then carefully slid down the curved edge of the roof and began the long climb back to the balcony below. 

* * *

“You don’t seem particularly surprised by this,” Angeal said to Genesis the next day. He’d taken Genesis out for lunch at a little deli in Sector Six they both enjoyed, and told him about Caelum’s gift from Rufus ShinRa as well as what he’d said about Rufus buying SOLDIER loyalty. 

“I’m not,” Genesis said. “This isn’t the first evidence we have of Rufus approaching Noctis. His fan club spotted them together a couple of days ago.” 

Angeal drummed his fingers on the table. “Why Caelum, though? And why now? Rufus is going to be the president of ShinRa someday, sure, but—”

He cut himself off as Genesis held up a hand. Genesis glanced around the restaurant, then leaned in close, pitching his voice for Angeal’s ears alone. “It’s not ‘someday’ any more,” he said. “It may very well be in the next few months.” He told Angeal about President ShinRa’s nightmares, his increasing delusions and slide into paranoia, as well as what Kunsel and Cloud had worked out about the likelihood of a war between Rufus and Lazard for control of ShinRa. 

When he’d finished, Angeal just stared at him in horror for a minute. “There has to be something we can do,” he said finally. 

“I’m open to suggestions,” Genesis snarked. “But any actions we take risk forcing either Rufus’s or Lazard’s hand.” 

“There has to be _something_ ,” Angeal repeated. “Caelum seems to be aware, to some degree, of what Rufus is up to. The way he talked last night… _He_ seems to think we can do something. Or that I can, at least.” 

Genesis reached across the table to steal a handful of potato chips from Angeal’s plate. “You specifically? Or just whichever of us happened to ask him about his shiny new sword first?” 

Angeal conceded the point with a tilt of his head, then swiped Genesis’s uneaten pickle in return. “If by ‘us’ you mean one of the Firsts…” He took a bite of the pickle, thinking - then something occurred to him. “Caelum’s point was about winning SOLDIERs’ loyalty with gifts,” he said. “What if we suggested that to Lazard?” 

“Gifts?” 

Angeal nodded. “If Rufus thinks he can buy SOLDIERs’ loyalty, then Lazard needs to make sure the price is higher than Rufus can pay.” 

“But how? Lazard can’t get away with giving everyone in SOLDIER a custom sword - that would be far too obvious.” 

“And not enough,” Angeal added. “Or at least, it doesn’t seem to have been enough to buy Caelum. Not completely.” 

“Noctis is an outlier,” Genesis said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Rufus is likely targeting him because he knows he can’t buy any of us Firsts, but everyone expects Noctis to make First soon. Getting Noctis now would give Rufus a First Class SOLDIER when the time comes. That may even be what he’s waiting for before he makes his move.” 

“So we can expect him to continue to ply Caelum with gifts.” Angeal studied Genesis. “Do you think it’ll work?” 

“I think Noctis has his own agenda, and unless someone figures out how to offer to help him with it, nobody’s going to win him,” Genesis said grimly. “Rufus is smart enough to realize that soon, and turn his attentions elsewhere.” 

“Which brings us back to, how can Lazard raise the price of SOLDIER loyalty too high for Rufus to buy?” 

Genesis shook his head, his gaze going distant as he thought. Then he sat bolt upright, his eyes focused somewhere over Angeal’s shoulder, the devilish grin Angeal knew all too well spreading across his face. “I have an idea.” 

Angeal twisted, following Genesis’s gaze to a big poster advertisement on the far wall. “Genesis—”

“It’s perfect,” Genesis said, and grinned at him. “Rufus will be hard-pressed to outbid _that_.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Angeal muttered, then sighed. “What the hell. I could use a vacation, anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of hatred for Angeal in the TFA fandom, and not unreasonably so. The guy royally and knowingly fucked up, bad, and caused a lot of harm to a lot of people. But at the same time, he's also a victim - of Hollander's manipulations, of the Jenova Project, of ShinRa itself. Those forces bent him until he broke in _Crisis Core_ , but he survives in the TFA timeline and has to live with what he's done, which is a painful dynamic I want to explore.


	21. Something Fishy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud uncovers one of Noctis's secrets, and Noctis uncovers one of Sephiroth's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noctis hasn't realized yet just how well SOLDIERs can hear. This is eventually going to cause problems for him. 
> 
> Also, I stand by my assertion that Noctis is a Disney princess.

“An all-expenses-paid weekend at the Gold Saucer?” Cloud read out loud from his PHS, then raised an eyebrow at Genesis.

Genesis sniffed. “You could at least _try_ to look excited.” 

“...About the Gold Saucer?” 

Genesis threw his hands in the air and turned to Zack and Kunsel where they leaned against the back of the couch in Cloud’s apartment, reading Lazard’s announcement over Cloud’s shoulder. “ _You_ two try to convince him to have some fun once in a while.” 

“He’s right, Cloud,” Zack said, and slung an arm around Cloud’s shoulders. “You haven’t had a vacation since you got here. This’ll be fun!” 

Cloud didn’t bother looking to Kunsel for help. For all that Kunsel was far more mature than most eighteen-year-olds, he was still eighteen, and his eyes gleamed with excitement. “I’ve never been to the Gold Saucer,” he admitted. “But you have, right?” 

“Yeah,” Cloud said. “If you’re good with chocobos, you can earn some money there. But mostly it’s a great way to burn through your gil with nothing to show for it.” 

“All expenses paid,” Genesis said, and poked the screen of Cloud’s PHS. “It’s ShinRa’s gil we’ll be burning. It’s fine.” 

Cloud snorted. In truth, their enthusiasm was catching. It had been a week and a half since Genesis had passed along the story of Angeal’s conversation with Noctis Lucis Caelum on top of ShinRa Tower, time which Genesis had apparently used to help Lazard set up this little indulgence in an attempt to buy the loyalty of SOLDIER. Cloud had never been a fan of the Gold Saucer himself - aside from the bad memories it held, or even just the melancholy ones, it was far too bright and noisy and chaotic for his liking. But it was perfect for teenagers like Zack and Kunsel, and self-indulgent adults like Genesis, and Cloud figured he could at least enjoy watching _them_ have fun. 

Kunsel sobered abruptly, frowning as he circled the couch to sit on the other side of Cloud from Genesis. “I’m surprised the President’s letting Lazard send all of SOLDIER away at once.” He took Cloud’s PHS and began scrolling through the announcement, reading the fine print. 

“He’s not,” Genesis said. “We’ll be going in waves - the Firsts this weekend, the Seconds in two batches the two weekends after that, and the Thirds in batches the following few weekends.” 

“Ah, bummer,” Zack said. “I was hoping Noctis would come with us.”

“Why, so he can sleep the whole time?” Genesis scoffed. 

“He doesn’t have any friends!” Zack protested. “Except us, sort of. He’ll probably have more fun if he’s there with us.” 

“Only if Genesis doesn’t give him the third degree again,” Cloud teased. 

Genesis shrugged one shoulder, looking far too innocent. “I would never.” 

“Uh-huh,” Kunsel said, sounding distracted. “Isn’t this supposed to be _Lazard’s_ gift to the SOLDIERs?” 

“Yes,” Genesis said, and frowned at him. “Why?” 

“Rufus ShinRa managed to get himself credited for it,” Kunsel said. “The ShinRa family’s gesture of thanks for the dedication of its most valuable warriors, etcetera.” 

Genesis rolled his eyes. “I _warned_ Lazard.” 

“Rufus is good at this, remember?” Cloud said.

“Lazard will still be the face of the vacation, though,” Kunsel said. “It’ll probably still work.” 

“Here’s hoping,” Cloud muttered. 

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Zack said, and leaned down to throw his arms around Cloud and Kunsel’s shoulders again. “At least _we’re_ getting something cool out of this. When do we leave?”

“Thursday morning,” Kunsel said. 

“Oh man, only two days to pack,” Zack said. “I’d better get started.” 

“It’s one weekend,” Genesis said. “How much are you planning to bring?”

“It’s one weekend _at the Gold Saucer_ ,” Zack said, and grinned at them. “You never know what’s gonna happen!” 

* * *

Cloud glared at the numbers slowly counting down in the elevator, wishing they would hurry up. Zack had spent the last twenty-four hours chattering endlessly about the Gold Saucer trip, pestering Cloud with questions about the place until Cloud had faked getting a mission just to have an excuse to leave. But he wasn’t entirely convinced Zack wouldn’t follow him along out of sheer excitement, so he needed to make a quick escape. Unfortunately for him, it was five-thirty PM, and the vast majority of ShinRa’s white-collar employees were _also_ trying to leave the building. 

After a small eternity, the elevator dinged, the doors opened, and the press of middle managers in suits flooded out into the lobby. Even Cloud’s SOLDIER status and First Tsurugi strapped to his back weren’t enough to keep people from bumping into him in their rush to get home, so he angled for the space under the stairs up to the second floor. Normally it was empty, dead space people avoided in favor of a straight path to the front doors, and he could get a breather from the crowd before plunging back in and enduring the packed train ride down to Aeris’s church. 

This time, however, the space was occupied, and Cloud stopped so abruptly that someone smacked into his back. They bounced off First Tsurugi with a sharp _Hey—!_ that cut off as the person realized just who they’d run into, but Cloud barely noticed, all his attention on the people under the stairs. One of them was an unfamiliar middle-aged woman with her hair bound up in a bun; the other was Noctis Lucis Caelum, wearing his all-black street clothes instead of his purple Second Class jumpsuit. 

The woman was handing Noctis a large canvas bag, the kind people took shopping. From the bulge and heft of it, it was clearly quite full. The woman said something that Cloud couldn’t hear over the din of the lobby, though it made Noctis smile and look away, rubbing the back of his head. Then he reached into his pocket and dropped a handful of bills into the woman’s hand. The woman grinned, said something else, and ducked into the flow of people headed out of the building, tossing a wave at Noctis over her shoulder. Noctis waved back, then opened the bag and checked over its contents briefly before heading for the front door himself. 

Curious, Cloud followed at a distance. Neither Noctis nor the woman had been making any effort to hide their exchange, but Cloud couldn’t think of any legitimate things they could be up to, either. Was this related to Noctis’s meeting with Rufus and the vice president’s efforts to buy SOLDIERs? Or was it something else entirely?

Noctis didn’t appear to have noticed him, and the evening crowds made it easy to keep it that way as Cloud tailed him to the train station and onto a packed train down to the Sector Eight slums. A few blocks out from the slums station, though, the crowd grew thin as residents peeled off down side streets and disappeared into homes. Cloud had to fall back further and further, until he was barely able to keep Noctis in sight along the dilapidated streets.

Up ahead, Noctis turned a corner, vanishing into the under-plate evening gloom. Cloud swore under his breath and hurried forward; he didn’t know the Sector Eight slums as well as he knew other parts of the undercity, and wasn’t sure where that particular side street went. He strained his ears, trying to track Noctis by footsteps if nothing else. The ever-present background hum of the city, even in this relatively quiet residential area, made it tricky, but Cloud thought he heard a soft, almost electric zapping sound. 

He nearly dismissed it as a faulty electric line somewhere - those were painfully common in the slums - but something about the sound was weirdly familiar. After a moment, he remembered the mission to Rocket Town and the strange noise he’d heard when Noctis had left to climb up onto the rooftops. But a coeurl couldn’t have gotten into the slums, could it? There would have been an outcry - or maybe it was a brand-new arrival, and Noctis would be its first victim. 

Worried now, Cloud jogged the last few steps around the corner where Noctis had disappeared - and stopped short. There was nothing in front of him except an empty alley, maybe twenty feet deep and fifteen feet wide, surrounded by the back walls of ramshackle houses on all sides. A few toys were scattered here and there; the place was probably a play space for local children. But Noctis wasn’t there, and Cloud didn’t see anywhere he could have gone. The houses were too tall to quickly climb over, and most of the walls were smooth and windowless anyway, offering little by way of handholds. Cloud spun around, senses straining. Noctis couldn’t have just vanished into thin air— 

A soft thump, feet on dirt behind him. Cloud spun again - and froze, because Noctis stood in the entrance of the alley, a spot that had been empty seconds ago when Cloud had walked through it. Noctis scowled at him. “Oh,” he said, in a deliberately bored drawl. “It’s just you.” 

Cloud scowled back. “Nice trick. How’d you pull it off?” 

“What trick?” Noctis asked. 

Cloud waved a hand at the alley. “Most people can’t vanish into thin air and then reappear like that.” 

“I’m not most people.” Noctis shrugged the canvas shopping bag back up onto his shoulder and strode out of the alley, brushing Cloud off with the same bored disinterest he’d displayed when Cloud had shadowed him on missions. 

Cloud followed him, much closer this time, and after a moment Noctis turned to scowl at him. “It’s not a mission,” he said. “I don’t need a babysitter.” 

“If it’s not a mission,” Cloud said, “then what is it?” He gestured at the shopping bag. “SOLDIERs aren’t normally delivery boys.” 

Noctis glanced down at the bag, then away, his voice studiously neutral as he said, “It’s nothing.” 

He hadn’t looked away quite fast enough to hide the blush rising across his cheeks, though. “Nothing?” Cloud repeated skeptically. 

Noctis didn’t answer, his shoulders hunching and his pace increasing like he was about to run away. 

Cloud narrowed his eyes, putting into his voice the tone he’d used on Denzel and Marlene when they were acting up: “Noctis. What are you doing?” 

Noctis winced, and - thankfully - slowed down. “...Promise you won’t laugh?” 

That wasn’t what Cloud was expecting. “Why would I laugh?” 

Noctis rolled his eyes. “We’re almost there anyway. Just... be quiet and don’t make any sudden moves.” 

Now Cloud was _really_ curious. He followed Noctis down a few more narrow twists and turns, finally emerging into another small back lot lit by a single flickering streetlight. This one was surrounded by junk, heaps of scrap metal and rotting wood that stank of mold and decay. Cloud wrinkled his nose, but Noctis seemed unaffected as he walked out into the center of the lot and crouched down. He swung the bag off his shoulder and began rooting through it, pulling out half a dozen chipped and battered saucers stamped with the ShinRa logo, along with several metal food tins which had been opened and resealed with wax paper and rubber bands. Noctis motioned for Cloud to sit down beside him, then began uncovering the tins. A wet, fishy scent floated out of them, and as Noctis dumped their contents into the saucers, Cloud realized abruptly that the stuff was _cat food._

He opened his mouth to ask, but Noctis shushed him. He shoved the now-empty tins and wrappers back into the bag, set the saucers out into a semicircle around him and Cloud, then sat back, waiting. Cloud held still, and after a minute or two, cats began emerging from the piles of scrap. They were sleeker and healthier-looking than the average feral slums cat, and while a couple sniffed cautiously at Cloud, the rest came right up to Noctis and the bowls of food. Cloud counted nine of them, with several more lurking in the shadows of the scrap heap. Clearly Noctis had been doing this for a while. 

Noctis let the cats eat in silence for a few minutes, then eased forward, the fingers of one hand extended politely toward the nearest couple of cats. They sniffed his fingers, then went back to eating as Noctis scratched their ears and backs. “Hey there,” he crooned to the cats. “This one’s fresh bass from the North Sea. Had lots of free time on my last mission and caught a bunch for you.” 

“You make cat food?” Cloud asked, keeping his voice low.

“Not me,” Noctis said. “I can’t cook for shit. One of the cooks in the SOLDIER cafeteria makes it for me when I bring her fish.” 

That must have been the woman who’d given Noctis the bag in the ShinRa lobby. And Noctis had been fishing when Cloud had first met him; it must be a hobby of his. Cloud sighed, settling into a more comfortable position as two of the cats finished eating and climbed, purring, into Noctis’s lap. A third, barely more than a kitten, scrambled up the back of Noctis’s jacket to perch on his shoulder. He petted them all, then scooped one up and deposited it in Cloud’s lap. “Here, this one’s nice. Scratch at the base of her ears, she really likes that.” 

Cloud did as instructed. The cat curled up on his lap, purring like a tiny motorcycle engine. Another cat, bright orange and fuzzy, hopped up onto his knee, butting his other hand with its head and yowling for attention. 

“I started feeding them on my first solo mission,” Noctis said over the mews. “And, uh. More of them kept showing up.” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I dunno. It just kind of became a thing.” 

Tiny claws scrabbled up Cloud’s back, then a wet nose bumped his neck. He obligingly petted that cat, then had to resume ministering to the yowling one who sounded offended that he’d stopped. Noctis was covered in half a dozen cats, and looked more relaxed and happy than Cloud had ever seen him. He petted them all, talking in a low gentle voice: _aww, who’s a good kitty?_ and _yeah, that’s the spot, huh?_ and the other kinds of nonsense people said to their pets. 

“So, uh,” Cloud said finally. “You like cats?” 

Noctis nodded, most of his attention on nuzzling a big grey cat perched on his knee. “There was this cat I used to feed when I was a kid. She liked to sneak into the gardens. And there was another one that followed us around for a while after...” He took a deep breath, melancholy flashing across his face. “After our city was destroyed.” He glanced at Cloud from under his hair. “What about you? You like cats?” 

Cloud shrugged.

Noctis chuckled. “That a polite way of saying no?” 

“I never had pets growing up,” Cloud admitted. “There was a dog that lived in the village, but it didn’t like kids. And I never understood cats.” 

“Cats take more practice,” Noctis said. “Mostly you watch their ears and tail, and their pupils if you can see them.” 

Cloud made a noncommittal noise, distracted by the cat on his shoulder trying to climb up onto his head. Then Noctis said tentatively, “So… can I ask you something weird?” 

Cloud glanced over at him, but Noctis’s attention was on a calico who was playfully gnawing on his fingers. “Sure.” 

“Sephiroth - the general. His eyes are actually - I mean, they’re not contacts, are they?” Noctis asked. “I’ve seen them do the thing, so they can’t be.” 

“The thing?”

“You know.” Noctis made a sort of opening gesture with his free hand. When Cloud shook his head, Noctis thought for a minute. Then he rooted around in his pockets, finally pulling out a long string - the standard-issue spare shoelace for his SOLDIER boots, as best Cloud could tell. “Here, watch her eyes,” he said, then dangled the shoelace in front of the playful calico. She perked up, drawing her feet under her, the tip of her tail lashing. Her pupils narrowed slightly as she watched the string dance back and forth, then suddenly blew wide, a moment before she pounced on the string. 

“If you ever want to bribe Sephiroth,” Noctis said casually, tugging the string as the calico kept chasing it, “strawberry cream cookies are a good bet. His eyes did that in the cafeteria the other day right before he grabbed four of them. And his pupils shrink way down in bright light, too. So… his eyes are real, right?” 

Cloud stared at him. 

“What?” Noctis said. “You’re First, you spend time with him. Are you telling me you never noticed he has cat eyes before?” 

It took a few tries for Cloud to get the words out, and they sounded strangled even to him. “Yeah, I noticed.” But he’d never thought about Sephiroth’s pupils being an indicator of mood, or anything as human as being excited about cookies. He didn’t remember Sephiroth’s pupils ever changing, in all the times Cloud had fought him - but no, that was the other Sephiroth, the one who’d been insane and dead. The Sephiroth of this timeline… was he human enough to react like that? Or did reactions like that make him less human? Cloud shuddered.

“...Cloud?” Noctis said cautiously. 

“Nothing,” Cloud said, too quickly. He made himself resume petting the noisy cat, who’d started yowling again. “Yes, his eyes are real. The way he was made… it was different from all the other SOLDIERs.” 

“Have his eyes always been like that?” Noctis asked. There was something odd in his voice, uncomfortable and maybe worried. “He’s not… turning into a dae—a monster?” He shook his head abruptly. “Sorry. I know you said SOLDIERs aren’t monsters, it’s just...” 

“He hasn’t become a monster yet,” Cloud said, his voice coming out grim and hard. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. Hojo had no idea what he was playing with when he created him.”

_The same could be said about you… Cloud_ , a voice whispered in his mind. An all-too-familiar voice, deep and sinister, then over top of it, Hojo’s voice: _Jenova cells and mako, with my knowledge and skills, have been combined with science and nature to bring him to life._ The words Hojo had said in the depths of the Northern Crater all those years ago. Jenova’s own voice, whispering in his mind months ago in Nibelheim: _You are the strongest. You can change everything._

Cloud shook himself, trying to shake off the memories. Noctis was still watching him, those stormcloud eyes wide in the dark of the alley. Noctis said neutrally, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

They fell silent again, Noctis seeming lost in thought as he continued to play with the cats, Cloud trying not to think about the Northern Crater and Hojo calling him a failure even as he crowed about his experiment being a success. Finally, though, the saucers had been licked clean and most of the cats had faded back into the shadows. Noctis yawned and stretched, not unlike a cat himself. “Better head back,” he said. “I’ve got a mission tomorrow.” He gently detached the last, particularly clingy ginger cat, and climbed to his feet. 

Cloud likewise stood, then helped Noctis collect the saucers back into the shopping bag. They headed back to the train station, weaving through the slums in a more companionable silence than usual - for once, Noctis wasn’t treating Cloud as if he didn’t exist at all. They caught the last train back up to the plate, Noctis dozing the whole way while Cloud tried to distract himself from the bad memories by puzzling over what had happened in that first alley. 

“So,” Cloud said as they left the Sector Four train station and made their way toward ShinRa Tower. “You never did say how you did that trick in the alley.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Noctis said around a yawn. 

“There wasn’t anywhere to hide,” Cloud said. “If it wasn’t impossible, I’d say you teleported.” 

Noctis’s eyes gleamed behind his bangs, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Next time,” he said, “try looking _up_.” 

Cloud stared at him for a second before remembering their sparring session in the training room, and Noctis managing to end up on the wall twenty feet overhead. “That’s your secret?” 

“The way—the, uh, fighting style I learned,” Noctis said. “I was taught to use vertical space a lot. Most people don’t.” 

Cloud acknowledged the point with a tilt of his head. It was a valid observation, and something he remembered Barret, Vincent, and Yuffie complaining about from his own timeline. He must have gotten too used to relying on them to cover high-flying enemies. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

They’d reached the entrance to ShinRa Tower, and as they crossed the lobby to the elevators, Noctis said, almost shyly, “You were good with the cats back there.”

“Thanks.” 

Noctis didn’t say anything else until the elevator was nearly to the barracks floor, but as it began to slow its ascent, he said, “If you ever want to come with me again, just… let me know, okay?” 

Cloud started to shrug - he wasn’t especially interested in feeding cats in the slums - but then he thought about what Zack had said yesterday: _he doesn’t have any friends._ Noctis seemed to be a loner by nature, but even loners could get lonely.

...What the hell. It wouldn’t be the first - or even the second - potential threat Cloud had neutralized in this timeline by becoming friends. “Sure.” 

Noctis smiled, a genuine expression that made him look a lot younger. “Cool.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. “Catch you around,” Noctis added, and slipped away into the barracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always bothered me that absolutely NOBODY in the FFVII universe comments on the fact that Sephiroth has slit pupils. Like, I'm sure it's a combination of ordinary people being too awed/intimidated by him to ask directly, the fact that it's typically considered rude to ask someone about their physical features, and the fact that his image is well-known enough that anyone who would have gossiped about it has long since done so, but come on! (To be fair, no one comments on the DUDE WITH A GUN FOR AN ARM, or the TALKING LION-WOLF-BEAST WITH A FLAMING TAIL, or the ROBOTIC SCOTTISH CAT RIDING A GIANT ROBOTIC MOOGLE, either, so maybe slit pupils just aren't weird enough on Gaia to draw commentary at all.) 
> 
> While Cloud always assumes the worst about Sephiroth, ordinary humans' pupils also dilate when viewing something we really like (and in response to a number of other things). It just tends to be less noticeable in round pupils unless you're looking for it.


	22. Corel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud takes a detour on the way to the Gold Saucer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was researching this chapter, I realized that technically the Gold Saucer shouldn't exist yet - it doesn't get built until after Corel gets wiped out, and is built directly on top of the remains of Barret's hometown. (Which, I suppose, neatly explains why so many attractions are still under construction when you first visit in the original game.) But I'm choosing to ignore this because the Gold Saucer canonically exists already in TFA (Cloud spends some time there shortly after arriving in the past to build up some operating money).
> 
> I'm also choosing to mostly ignore the OG map of the area, because the geography of the greater Corel area in the OG makes zero sense. The location of Old Corel/the Gold Saucer is way out in a "natural prison in the middle of the desert... surrounded entirely by quicksand" according to Cait Sith in the OG, which 1) doesn't even line up with Barret's flashbacks to Corel being in the foothills of the Corel Mountains, surrounded by forest; and 2) doesn't make sense if it's a mining town focused on the mines on the other side of the Corel Mountains - the distance is too far. According to Barret, it's around a day's walk from Old Corel to the area where the main mining equipment is in the OG, plus you can ride a ropeway from North Corel to the Gold Saucer, implying that Old Corel/the Gold Saucer are very close to the mountains. But visually on the map, they're quite far away and surrounded by enough desert/quicksand that anyone trying to cross it dies before they escape. 
> 
> So for the purposes of this fic, the Gold Saucer already exists at this point in time, and is located somewhat south of Corel at the edge of the desert, while Corel itself is located in the foothills of the Corel Mountains, a bit south of where North Corel is located in the OG.

“How much luggage do you _have?_ ” Kunsel demanded incredulously as Zack staggered onto the helicopter pad. 

It was the morning after Cloud and Noctis’s late-night jaunt to feed cats in the slums, and the Firsts were getting ready to depart on their company-sponsored vacation to the Gold Saucer. Cloud and Kunsel had arrived to the helicopter pad five minutes ago, each with their standard-issue SOLDIER duffel bags slung over their shoulders. Angeal and Sephiroth were already there, leaning against the wall, their own duffel bags sitting at their feet as they chatted idly. Cloud and Kunsel took up residence on the other side of the pad, and Cloud started doing squats out of old habit. 

Now, though, he stopped and stared as Zack dumped three duffel bags and a backpack on the ground next to Kunsel. “I want to make sure I’m ready for everything!” Zack proclaimed. “Chocobo racing, games, sunbathing, a night at the theater - who knows!” 

Kunsel rolled his eyes. “You know we have a weight limit on the helicopters.” 

“We’re nowhere near the limit,” Zack protested. “You could put another whole person in each chopper before we’d need to mind the limit.” 

“Actually,” a new voice interjected, and Cloud glanced up to see Tseng lean out from within one of the two choppers parked on the pad. “We will have two additional people. I recommend you repack quickly, Commander Fair.” 

“What?” Zack said. “Who? There’s only six Firsts.” 

“Second Class Sergeant Caelum has a mission in North Corel,” Tseng said. “He and I will be riding out with you, and depending on how long his mission lasts, most likely back as well.” He glanced at his watch. “You have fifteen minutes to repack within individual weight limits.” 

Zack swore, grabbed his bags, and ran back inside. Cloud said to Tseng, “What’s in North Corel?” 

“AVALANCHE,” Tseng said. “Our informant told us the group plans to occupy the Corel Reactor. We intend to clear them out before they can do any damage.” 

Cloud’s breath caught. Barret Wallace was living in Corel right now, working in the coal mines in the mountains. Cloud had thought he had another year or two before the incident that had cost Barret his arm and Marlene her birth parents, but had he miscounted? Or was this something else entirely? 

“Something wrong, Commander?” Tseng asked. His voice was idle, but his dark eyes were sharp. 

“Nothing,” Cloud said, then hesitated. “But… is it okay if I stop in Corel with you? There’s someone there I’ve been meaning to get in touch with.” 

“You’d be missing part of your vacation at the Gold Saucer,” Tseng said mildly. 

Cloud shrugged. “Been there.” 

Tseng shrugged back, a deliberate and mocking imitation. “If you’d like, then. You’ll be responsible for finding your own way from Corel to the Gold Saucer afterwards.”

“Understood.” 

Tseng nodded, then ducked back inside the chopper. Only once he was completely out of sight did Kunsel murmur, “Future stuff?”

“Yeah,” Cloud muttered back. “Tell you later.” 

Kunsel grunted acknowledgement. Across the helipad, the door swung open to reveal Genesis, duffel dangling from one hand as he used the other to shove Noctis out into the morning sunlight. “Move along, sleepyhead,” Genesis grumbled. “Some of us try to keep our schedules.” 

“You need coffee more than Ignis usually does,” Noctis grumbled back. He dodged another shove, yawned, then staggered over to join Cloud and Kunsel. Genesis followed, complaining loudly about early-morning departure times on what was supposed to be a _vacation_ , for Odin’s sake. Reno and a uniformed woman Cloud didn’t recognize showed up next, climbing into the two choppers’ pilot seats and starting the pre-flight checks. Noctis, still looking less than half awake, tossed his duffel into the cargo compartment of the helicopter Tseng was sitting in, then climbed inside, buckled into a seat, and fell asleep immediately. 

Genesis grabbed Cloud’s arm and started to tug him toward the other chopper, but Cloud pulled free. “I need to ride with them,” he said. “I’m visiting someone in Corel.”

“Fine,” Genesis said, and started to toss his own duffel into Tseng’s chopper, only to find Kunsel’s bag already in place and Kunsel climbing into the chopper’s third seat. “Really?” 

“We’ll have plenty of time to hang out at the Gold Saucer,” Cloud said impatiently. “You can handle a helicopter ride without me.” 

“ _Even if the morrow is barren of promises,_

_Nothing shall forestall my return._ ” 

“ _Loveless_ , Act III,” Sephiroth said, coming up behind Genesis. “Load up. We leave in two minutes.” 

Still grumbling, Genesis followed Sephiroth and Angeal into the other helicopter, while Cloud strapped himself into the first one’s remaining open seat. As the rotors spun to life, Zack, now carrying a single bag that bulged at the seams, dashed across the helipad and dove into the other helicopter. He tossed Cloud a wave and a thumbs-up, then Angeal reached across him to slide the chopper’s doors closed. Tseng did the same on their chopper, and they were off.

* * *

Fourteen hours later, Reno piloted their chopper to a smooth landing on a plateau overlooking the Corel Reactor. Leaving Tseng to the onerous task of waking Noctis, Cloud and Kunsel hopped out and stretched. “Remember,” Tseng called after them. “You’re on your own to get to the Gold Saucer. Here,” he added, and leaned out of the chopper to hand them each an envelope. “Your entry passes, and Gold Cards preloaded with your Gold Points. More than enough for the weekend, I’m sure.” 

They nodded thanks and tucked the envelopes into their duffels, then headed away along the old mining tracks down to North Corel. Once they were well out of earshot of the chopper, protected by the twists and turns of the mountain terrain, Kunsel said, “So, what is it? There’s something you need to change here?” 

“Yeah,” Cloud said. “A friend of mine was from Corel. He said the reactor exploded, so ShinRa blamed the miners as a cover-up and wiped out the whole town.” 

Kunsel’s lips tightened into a thin line beneath his helmet. “After Hojo and Hollander, that doesn’t surprise me as much as it should,” he muttered. “You think this—” with a jerk of his head back toward the reactor— “is what caused the explosion?”

“I don’t know,” Cloud admitted. “Barret didn’t say. But if it is…” 

“We don’t have much time,” Kunsel said. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” Cloud said. “You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

“So are you.” 

Cloud couldn’t help but smile at that. He hadn’t wanted to get Kunsel involved, not after what being involved with Cloud had done to him in Hojo’s lab, but Kunsel seemed to take it as a given that he’d be helping. “I need to talk to Barret,” Cloud said, thinking out loud. “He said he used to be ShinRa’s biggest supporter in Corel, so we need to convince him that ShinRa is dangerous.” 

“That’ll be hard, if he’s their biggest supporter,” Kunsel pointed out. “Besides, what will you do even if you manage to convince him? Get everyone to leave town even though the reactor hasn’t exploded? They aren’t going to do that.”

“I don’t know,” Cloud said. “I just thought… if Barret knows ShinRa doesn’t care about Corel, then maybe he’ll…” He trailed off helplessly and groaned. “Why am I so bad at this?” 

Kunsel bumped his shoulder against Cloud’s. “Don’t worry, that’s what you have me for. Do you know about anyone who already thinks ShinRa is dangerous?” 

Cloud started to shake his head, then paused. “Wait, yeah. Barret’s friend Dyne. He was against letting ShinRa build the reactor.” 

“Okay,” Kunsel said. “We’ll start with him. We can tell him about the terrorist threat and warn him that ShinRa is likely to blame Corel for anything that happens to the reactor. Let him decide what to do with that information on his own. If he already distrusts ShinRa, he may even have some plans in place.” 

An hour or so of picking their way across rickety train tracks and along steep downhill trails later, they rounded a curve of rock and found themselves at the bottom of the Corel Mountains. Cloud stopped for a moment to stare. He’d passed through the area not long after his arrival in the past, but had only gone through North Corel on his way to and from the Gold Saucer. He hadn’t ventured further south, to the town nestled in the foothills where Barret had once lived. 

But where his memory held images of destroyed buildings half-swallowed by the desert, now sat a quaint collection of houses and shops, surrounded by lush trees. The Gold Saucer loomed over it in the distance, a bright and gaudy contrast to the dusty, rundown town - though Cloud could see signs that the reactor had brought new prosperity, as well. Power lines ran down the mountain from the reactor, and construction scaffolding outside the town marked where the miners had switched to building what looked like a big hotel - probably meant for Gold Saucer tourists who couldn’t afford its overpriced inn. 

All those years ago, Barret had said Dyne was the only townsperson who’d opposed the reactor. If ShinRa had, at least at first, kept its promise to guarantee the miners’ livelihoods after the reactor had been built, it was going to be a hard sell to convince the townsfolk of the danger that loomed over their heads. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Kunsel said, “Maybe there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe Noctis will prevent the explosion. He wasn’t there in your timeline, so…” 

“Maybe,” Cloud muttered. “Come on.” 

He led Kunsel through the ring of trees into the village proper. Despite the long trip, the time difference meant it was only just late afternoon here on the west continent. Workers, tired and sweaty, crowded the streets on their way home from the construction site. Kids chased dogs through the alleys between houses, and workers’ spouses milled near the town’s little general store in gossipy groups. They stopped and stared at Cloud and Kunsel, in curiosity rather than fear. Cloud picked a group at random, a trio of grandmotherly women with snowy hair and warm brown skin, all carrying packed shopping baskets on their arms. 

“Excuse me,” he said. “We’re looking for a man named Dyne. Do you know where we can find him?” 

“Dyne?” one of the women said. She looked him up and down, then Kunsel, taking in their black clothes and weapons. “What’s ShinRa want with Dyne? He in trouble?” 

“No, not at all,” Kunsel interjected quickly, flashing a polite smile under his helmet. “His friend Barret said he thought Dyne might be interested in a job we’re hiring for.” 

“A job, eh?” a different woman said. “Good. That boy needs something to keep him busy.” 

“You’re out of luck, though,” the third woman said. “Him ‘n Barret headed up to the reactor yesterday. Pippa’s girl saw some strange lights up that way a couple days ago, and Barret figured he oughta make sure nothin’ funny’s going on.” 

“I see,” Kunsel said. “Well, we’ll be back through here in a few days - maybe we’ll catch him then. Thanks for your time.” He gave the women another polite smile, then headed away between a pair of ramshackle houses. 

Cloud followed, but stopped as soon as they were out of earshot of the women. “Now what?” 

“Hey, this is your mission,” Kunsel teased. “I’m just here to look pretty.” 

“I thought you were here to do the planning,” Cloud teased back.

Kunsel grinned. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Both your contacts are up at the reactor. Anyone else you can think of to try?” 

Cloud shook his head. “Maybe we should go back to the reactor,” he suggested. “If we’re there, we can make sure nothing—”

A scream from the town’s main street interrupted him, and he and Kunsel both whirled, reaching for their weapons. The move put them facing the mountains - where a brilliant light shone like a beacon from the peaks. The crack-boom of an explosion slammed through the town a second later, rattling walls and shattering windows. 

More people screamed in shock and terror as Cloud launched himself forward, dodging around buildings until he had a clear view up the mountains. He couldn’t see the reactor itself from here, nestled as it was in a deep valley surrounded by the peaks, but he could clearly see a massive geyser of smoke and mako erupting hundreds of feet into the sky.

Beside him, Kunsel muttered a curse. “Not good.” He grabbed Cloud’s wrist and tugged him back toward the town’s main street. “Come on, we need to evacuate the town.” 

Cloud stared at him. The words didn’t make sense - Cloud had failed, _again_. Failed to stop yet another of ShinRa’s atrocities. Barret would lose his wife and his arm, and Marlene would lose her parents— 

Kunsel tugged his arm harder. “Come _on_ ,” he said. “If we evacuate everyone, then even if ShinRa does come after the town, the people will be safe.” 

“But…” 

“Cloud!” Kunsel snapped. “Nobody’s died yet. You can still save them!” 

“Right.” Cloud kicked his brain back into gear, following Kunsel back toward the town square. He hadn’t prevented the explosion, but he could still save the townsfolk. 

“What the hell was that?!” someone shouted as they ran past.

“The mako reactor exploded!” Kunsel called back. “You need to evacuate!” He broke away from Cloud, making a shooing motion at a group of older men standing frozen in the street.

Cloud left him to it and ran back to the group of grandmothers they’d spoken with a minute ago, who were now staring slack-jawed at the towering mako eruption. He caught one of the women by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “You need to get out of here,” he said. “Round everyone up - _everyone_ , you understand?”

All three women stared blankly at him. Cloud added, “The mako reactor exploded. There’ll be a hailstorm of debris in a few seconds. Grab everyone and run. Don’t come back for at least a week.” 

“But…” one of the other women stammered. “Where do we go? Where _can_ we go?” 

For a moment, Cloud’s mind blanked. What other settlements were around here, in this time, that were safe? But the first woman came to his rescue: “Gongaga,” she said firmly. “We can go to Gongaga. I have family there.”

“Good,” Cloud said. He wasn’t actually sure it was good - he remembered Gongaga had been destroyed in his timeline by a reactor explosion as well, but he didn’t think that had happened yet. He’d just have to stop that one, too. “Go!” He pushed the woman toward another group of villagers, and thank Odin, she grabbed her friends by the arms and took off, hollering names and orders at the top of her lungs. 

Cloud repeated the process with several more groups before the exodus began to take hold. People filed out of buildings, clutching precious valuables and carrying small children. Already bits of debris had begun to rain down around them, and for a moment Cloud thought he should have told everyone to stay inside instead - until he saw a chunk of mountain rock punch right through a flimsy wall, shattering something in the house beyond. Better to get them moving away where they could see the debris coming for them, than lock them inside where the ramshackle houses would provide no protection.

“That’s all of ‘em,” Kunsel said breathlessly, jogging up to Cloud. “We should head back up the mountain.”

“Shit. Noctis,” Cloud said.

Kunsel nodded, his mouth a thin and worried line. “He might have been inside the reactor when it blew. Do you think he’s okay?” 

“He’s tough,” Cloud said. “He’ll be fine.” 

“Right,” Kunsel agreed. 

But they still set off for the reactor at a dead run.


	23. The Reactor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rescue mission inside the destroyed Corel Reactor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am mostly ignoring Before Crisis for this fic, as it makes the already-screwy FFVII timeline even screwier. Plus, the ripple effects caused by Cloud's presence in the past would have dramatically changed the events of BC in ways that are impossible to predict. This chapter is the only teeny-tiny nod to BC events I have planned.
> 
> Also, remember that plot I alluded to like forever ago? It's still here, I swear...

Cloud skidded around a curve in the mountain path, so intent on reaching the reactor and Noctis as fast as possible that he didn’t immediately register the broad rail tracks stretching across a deep hole toward what, a few hours ago, had been the Corel Reactor. Or maybe it was that the reactor itself was all but gone: nothing but a column of half-melted metal, dirt, and debris remained of the reactor’s central tower. 

Slowing to a jog, Cloud cautiously approached the place where the rail tracks left the stable ground and stretched out across empty air. He’d left Kunsel behind half an hour ago, along with their duffel bags - mako-enhanced though Kunsel might be, he didn’t have anything like Cloud’s speed or stamina, and running up a mountain was far more difficult than strolling down one. _Go on ahead_ , Kunsel had panted. _If you wait for me it’ll be two hours before we get there._

Without Kunsel to slow him, Cloud had made it to the reactor a little over an hour after the explosion. Smoke still choked the air, and various alarms shrieked and wailed from somewhere inside the reactor, but the hail of debris had finally ended. More smoke billowed out of the deep well surrounding the reactor’s tower, lit from below with an eerie kaleidoscope of green and orange light. Fires must still be burning strong down below, and the mako storage must have burst open. 

“Strife!” a voice called, and Cloud spun to see Tseng limping toward him from the direction of the plateau where the chopper was parked. An ugly bruise blossomed along the left side of his face, blood ran down his temple, and his black suit was burned and torn. 

“What happened?” Cloud demanded.

“I don’t know,” Tseng admitted. His voice was too loud - the explosion had probably temporarily deafened him. “Reno and Sergeant Caelum had been inside for perhaps half an hour when…” He waved a hand vaguely at the remains of the reactor. “I tried to get inside, but…” He shook his head, swaying. “I called for backup. I don’t know when they’ll get here.”

“You’re hurt,” Cloud said. 

“I’m fine.” Tseng drew in a breath and, with what appeared to be willpower alone, stood steady. “We need to find Reno and Caelum.” 

“I’ll find them,” Cloud said. He turned back to the rail tracks, assessing the damage to the structure. Many of the wooden planks were charred or broken, and the metal rails were warped and slick with mako, but he’d walked on worse. “Stay here.”

“Reno’s still in there,” Tseng protested. 

“Reno can take care of himself.”

“No,” Tseng said, shaking his head again. “He’s just a trainee—” He took a step forward and buckled. 

Cloud caught him on reflex, lowering him to the ground before Tseng’s words caught up to him: Reno, a trainee? But then, it was still four years before Cloud had met Reno in his own timeline, when Reno’d been a full-fledged and seasoned Turk. No wonder Reno seemed a lot less subtle than Cloud was used to. It was easy to forget that even the Turks had been young, once. 

Tseng grabbed Cloud’s shoulder, struggling to pull himself upright, and Cloud pushed him back down. Tseng groaned, eyes sinking closed in pain and frustration - but then tried to shove himself up onto his elbows. Cloud frowned. Reno might be young, but he was still a Turk, more than capable of handling himself if the explosion hadn’t outright killed him. Tseng knew that, and also knew he shouldn’t put himself at risk, not when Cloud was there and perfectly capable of rescuing Reno and Noctis both. 

Cloud thumped Tseng to the ground again, with slightly more force than necessary. “Who are you really worried about?” 

Despite the pain he was obviously in, the glare Tseng shot him was just as potent as usual. “That’s Turk business, SOLDIER.” 

_ Odin, give me patience_, Cloud thought. Out loud, he said, “You’re in no shape to go in there, much less rescue anyone.” 

“You have a Restore materia, don’t you?” Tseng said testily.

“ _You_ have a concussion,” Cloud shot back. “Curative magic will just make you pass out.” He leaned close over Tseng, putting steel into his voice. “Who. Is. In there?” 

Tseng… _flinched._

Cloud stared at him, too surprised to react. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t used to people flinching around him - that was common for SOLDIERs - but _Tseng?_ Who’d once faced down Sephiroth himself in the Temple of the Ancients? Maybe it was just that Tseng was younger, too. Younger, wounded, vulnerable and all too aware of it. Cloud was the most physically dangerous man on the Planet; Tseng had to know that, had to be aware that he couldn’t stop Cloud from _taking_ the information. Tseng was already wounded, it would be easy to—

Where the hell had _that_ come from? Cloud shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. He must be more wound up about the explosion and Corel’s safety than he realized. Tseng was still watching him, wariness in his dark eyes, so Cloud said in as moderate a tone as he could manage, “I can’t rescue someone if I don’t know to look for them. So tell me who I’m looking for.” 

Tseng eyed him for a second or two more, then sighed, eyes sinking closed. “Rufus,” he said quietly. “Rufus ShinRa.” 

Cloud’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s _Rufus_ doing here?” 

Dark eyes slitted open in a tired glare, and Tseng didn’t answer. 

“Fine,” Cloud muttered. He pulled his Restore materia from a pocket and held it up for Tseng to see. “Stay put. Kunsel will be here soon. I’ll get everyone out of the reactor. Including Rufus,” he added when Tseng opened his mouth. 

Tseng nodded weakly, and, thank Odin, stayed down when Cloud let go of him. Cloud cast a Cure on him, watching the wound on his temple stitch itself closed and Tseng’s breathing steady into unconsciousness as the magic went to work on the concussion. Satisfied, Cloud rose to his feet and turned toward the destroyed reactor.

Then movement from the far side of the plateau caught his eye. His hand snapped up to First Tsurugi’s hilt and he shifted to put himself between Tseng and whatever was emerging from the trees. Any mundane monsters in the area should have long since fled from the explosion, but the mako mutants that hung around reactors might be drawn to the mako that was splattered everywhere. Cloud couldn’t leave Tseng unconscious and vulnerable. 

But it wasn’t mako mutants. Two men ran out from the forest, one tall, slim, and pale-skinned with dark hair stained almost purple from coal dust, the other even taller and broad with deep brown skin and hair braided back into cornrows. They were dressed similarly in rugged denim and burlap - miner’s clothes, and for a bizarre moment Cloud thought that somehow some of the Corel residents had followed him all the way up the mountain already. 

Then he realized that the two men _were_ Corel residents - but they’d been up here by the reactor already, just like the grandmother had told him earlier. 

“Hey!” Barret Wallace called. He skidded to a stop a few yards away from Cloud, watching First Tsurugi cautiously. Dyne, on his heels, had his eyes fixed on Tseng and was already swinging a backpack off one shoulder. Barret spread his hands in the universal I-mean-no-harm gesture, and _Gaia_ it was strange to see him like this, wearing coal-stained mining gear instead of his AVALANCHE fatigues, with his right arm intact. He didn’t have a beard, either, and without it he looked unsettlingly young. 

“Hey!” Barret said again, waving a hand pointedly. 

Cloud realized abruptly that Barret had been talking - that he’d asked something. “What?” 

“Do you need any help?” Barret repeated, more slowly and loudly, like he thought Cloud’s hearing might’ve been damaged the way Tseng’s had been. “We ain’t got much, but we keep first-aid kits on us.” He gestured toward Dyne, who had pulled a burlap pouch out of his backpack and now held it up for Cloud to see.

“Uh,” Cloud said. He was still trying to process Barret - _this_ Barret, this ordinary man who hadn’t lost everything to ShinRa, who would willingly offer help to a SOLDIER and a Turk - and it took Cloud a few seconds to understand the question. “No,” he managed finally. “I mean…” He shook his head, fumbling for words, for a plan. But his brain was still stuck on Barret, so wildly different from the hardened warrior he’d known in his own time. “Um.” 

Dyne apparently took that for permission, because he eased past Barret, circled wide around Cloud, and knelt beside Tseng, checking him over with practiced swiftness. “Well, he _was_ injured,” he reported to Barret.

“You got healing materia?” Barret asked Cloud. 

Cloud nodded. “Yeah. He had a concussion.” Finally managing to kick his brain into gear, he added, “There’s another SOLDIER coming up the mountain. Can you stay with him—” with a jerk of his chin toward Tseng— “until he gets here? Make sure he doesn’t try to get up and follow me in.” 

“In?” Barret repeated. “In where?” He followed Cloud’s glance to the reactor. “Oh, hell no! That thing exploded! What d’you gotta go in there for?” 

“There’s still people inside,” Cloud said.

“I’ll come with you,” Barret said immediately. “I can help.” 

For a teetering heartbeat, Cloud almost said _yes_ \- almost took him up on it. But he yanked himself back from that particular edge. This wasn’t the Barret he’d known, whom he trusted to handle himself in dangerous situations. This man was… not _young_ , exactly; even now he was older than Cloud. But he was innocent in a way Cloud had no right to put at risk. “No,” Cloud made himself say. “It’s too dangerous.”

Barret eyed him up and down with the skeptical expression that was all too familiar from Cloud’s early days in AVALANCHE, and for a moment Cloud’s chest ached with homesickness. He shoved it back down and said firmly, “I’m a SOLDIER First. I can handle myself.” 

“So can I,” Barret said pointedly. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Cloud said. “But I need you to stay out here. I can’t—” He bit his tongue before the rest of the words slipped out: _I can’t put you in danger._ “I need someone to let Kunsel know what happened and where I am, in case Tseng’s still out when he gets here.” 

“Kunsel’s this other SOLDIER you said was coming?” Dyne asked. He’d finished his examination of Tseng and sat back on his heels. 

Cloud nodded, then met Barret’s eyes. “Please.” 

Barret’s jaw had set, a familiar stubbornness in his dark eyes. “You came up from the bottom of the mountain?” 

Cloud nodded again. 

“Is the town all right?” 

Anyone who didn’t know Barret as well as Cloud did would have missed the slight quaver in his voice when he asked. Cloud said firmly, “We got everyone evacuated. Kunsel will tell you more when he gets here.” 

Barret took a deep breath, and homesickness lurched through Cloud again as he watched the telltale signs of an inner debate flicker across the man’s face. Finally Barret said, “Yeah, okay. We’ll stay here. You be careful in there, though.” 

“I will,” Cloud said. “Thanks.” 

He turned away from them, doing his best to shove his worries to the back of his mind. He and Kunsel _had_ evacuated Corel, which meant Marlene was safe, and so was Barret’s wife Myrna. Kunsel would make sure Barret and Dyne would be able to join them in the evacuation. Now Cloud just had to make sure Noctis, Reno, and Rufus were okay. 

He crossed the plateau to the mako-spattered rail tracks bridging out to the remains of the reactor’s central tower. The metal rails groaned ominously when he stepped out onto one of them, and the whole thing swayed - looked like it was no longer attached at the other end. Cloud eased forward, balancing carefully right up until metal screeched and gave way, forcing him to leap the last twenty or so feet to grab onto a broken girder jutting out of a crack in the wall of the central column. 

The broken rail clattered down into the depths of the reactor’s well. Cloud watched it, squinting against the smoke still billowing up from the fires far below, trying to gauge how far down it was. He and the others had passed by the Corel Reactor in his timeline, but he’d never actually gone inside and wasn’t sure how this one was laid out. Nestled in the mountains as it was, it was almost certainly constructed differently than the city reactors he was familiar with. But between the smoke and the wild flashes of light from fire and mako, he couldn’t make out anything past around thirty feet down. 

The hard way it was, then. He hauled himself up on top of the girder he’d been dangling from and followed it through a gap in the reactor wall. Inside, he found a remarkably undamaged control room. The explosion must have been outside, funneled up around the central tower by the valley, rather than occurring inside the tower and tearing through it. Alarms screeched from all sides and Cloud glanced over the instrument panels, but all he could make out was that something was terribly wrong. Which, well, the reactor _had_ exploded. 

Leaving the control room, Cloud found a circular hallway that wrapped around an elevator column running through the center of the tower. Pressing the elevator call button got no response, so Cloud used one of First Tsurugi’s small side blades to pry open the doors. The shaft was remarkably free of smoke, thanks to being sealed, and Cloud grabbed the elevator cable and slid down. These upper floors of the central tower were likely to be more control and administration rooms. Tseng had said AVALANCHE planned to occupy the reactor, and the best place to do that would be further down, in the mako processing facility itself.

At the bottom of the shaft, he had to climb through a maintenance hatch on the top of the elevator and pry open its doors from the inside, but he finally emerged into a large, debris-filled circular room at the bottom of the reactor. Small fires burned here and there amidst the rubble, and more alarms shrieked useless warnings. The air was thick with smoke, dust, and the stench of mako, thanks to the raw mako splattered over every visible surface. It oozed in puddles on the floor and dripped from the ceiling, and Cloud remembered the massive geyser of mako that had stretched into the sky above the mountains. 

Zipping the collar of his shirt closed, Cloud pulled the fabric up over his nose and mouth to protect himself from the smoke, then looked around the room, squinting through the haze. Three doors were evenly spaced around the outer wall: one nothing but an empty frame, one still sealed but badly dented, the third blown open and half-blocked with rubble. Through the open ones, he could barely make out distant, enormous pipes half-hidden by the thick smoke of closer machinery burning. He had to be at the level of the mako storage tanks.

If this AVALANCHE crew had followed the same plan used by the AVALANCHE from Cloud’s timeline when bombing the Midgar reactors, they would’ve gone after the mako pumps. In each Midgar reactor, the mako pump had been in the center of the reactor, accessible by a broad catwalk meant to support the heavy equipment needed to maintain the pump machinery. Here, with the control tower in the center of the mako storage tanks, Cloud guessed there were three pumps spread along the outer rim of the valley in which the reactor sat, one for each door. From the look of the damage, there’d been a bomb on each pump. 

Cloud started to pick his way through the burning debris toward the unblocked door, then stopped short when a sound caught his attention, something soft and out of place beneath the shrill alarms. There was a pause, then it came again: a voice, hoarse and pained. “Tseng?” 

“Where are you?” Cloud called back. 

“Down here,” the voice said, then broke into an ugly coughing fit. Cloud followed the voice to a pile of broken ceiling panels and a slab of metal that might have once been a door. Moving as quickly as he could without risking collapsing the pile, Cloud cleared the debris, revealing Rufus ShinRa sprawled on the ground with Reno lying under him in a shallow pool of mako. 

Rufus rolled off Reno with a gasp, then squinted up at Cloud in confusion. “You’re... SOLDIER,” he said. “Where’s Tseng?”

“Outside,” Cloud answered as he knelt beside them. “Concussion.” He checked Reno, finding a pulse and a faint flutter of breath. Mako soaked Reno’s clothes, skin, and hair, but he couldn’t have been there for more than an hour or so - he’d survive the exposure. 

Rufus grunted. “You’ll have to lift him. I think… I think my ribs are broken.” The last word dissolved into another coughing fit. 

“Hang on,” Cloud said. He pulled out his Restore and cast a Cura on Reno, then another on Rufus. It wasn’t the best choice, not without first doing a thorough examination for internal injuries, but it would at least keep Cloud from causing further damage when he moved Reno. Dropping the materia back into a pocket, he eased Reno up and out of the puddle, settling him on top of a mostly flat and mako-free piece of metal. 

As he did, Rufus pushed himself gingerly up to his knees. He wore his familiar white suit, now torn and stained with blood, dirt, and mako, though his face had an almost teenage youth to it that was jarring. Cloud was used to the Meteor-hardened Rufus of his own time; come to think of it, this was the first he’d seen the man in the past. 

Apparently misinterpreting Cloud’s stare, Rufus ran a hand over his face, wincing as he found the bruises and cuts that peppered the skin. “I look that bad, do I?” 

“What happened?” Cloud asked, instead of answering. 

“AVALANCHE didn’t want to negotiate,” Rufus said. “They set off their bombs instead of letting us leave—Noct!” He scrambled to his feet, looking around the room as though searching for something, then tried to climb out of the debris pile where he and Reno had been buried. Abruptly he staggered, catching himself against an overturned desk with a startled curse. Cloud reached out, but Rufus waved him off, looking irritated with his own weakness. He took a couple of shallow, pained breaths, then eased over the debris much more carefully than the first time. 

“Knocked what?” Cloud asked, when he was standing free.

“Noctis. The SOLDIER who came with us. Have you found him?” 

Cloud shook his head. “Where did you last see him?”

“Outside,” Rufus said. “He got us through the initial blast. I don’t know how. We were right there.” He nodded toward the destroyed door. “He must have one of the Science Department’s new materia, because the explosion went right through us. He told us to get out of the reactor.” 

“What was he going to do?” 

“He wanted to save the AVALANCHE terrorists,” Rufus said. Correctly interpreting Cloud’s stare this time, he added dryly, “I’ll need to have a talk with Lazard about ensuring SOLDIERs follow orders from officers of the company.” 

“Good luck,” Cloud muttered under his breath. Rufus’s eyes narrowed and Cloud added quickly, “I’m going to cast another Cure on each of you. The elevator isn’t working, so we’ll need to find another way out.” 

“There’s a service stairway,” Rufus said, pointing around the side of the elevator column. “Reno and I were trying to get it open when the second blast hit.” 

Halfway through casting a Cure on Reno, Cloud frowned. “Second blast?” 

“When the mako exploded,” Rufus said. “Normally, a reactor applies controlled pressure to small amounts of mako in order to generate energy. But the way AVALANCHE arranged their bombs, the shockwave from the first explosion must have set off a chain reaction in the storage tanks that caused a second, far more powerful explosion.”

Maybe that explained why reactors blew up on their own so often, even without help from AVALANCHE. Then Cloud remembered Barret, Dyne, and Tseng, vulnerable up on the plateau outside the reactor. “Is there a risk of a third explosion?” 

“Unlikely,” Rufus said. “The stored energy would have been released with the second blast. Nevertheless, I would advise you to hurry. Third explosion or no, I doubt this building is structurally sound anymore.” 

“Yeah,” Cloud muttered. He tossed a Cure on Rufus, then added, “See if you can get that service stairwell open. I’ll find Noctis.” 

Leaving Rufus to it, Cloud headed through the shattered door and found himself on a narrow bridge stretching out from beneath the bulk of the central tower across twin lakes of mako. It looked like there were two huge mako tanks here, one to each side of the bridge, and the bridge itself ran along the rim where the two tanks’ sides met. More debris littered the lakes’ surface, half-sunken and burning, and mako roiled and bubbled restlessly a few yards below the level of the bridge. Smoke hazed the air, making it difficult to see, but what he could make out of the bridge looked stable enough. He eased forward, out over the glowing green lake. 

The stench of death hit him only a few steps along, potent even through the cloth over his face and the smell of mako permeating the air. Cloud spotted the first body a few seconds later, draped haphazardly over the bridge’s railing as though thrown there. Cloud checked it as he passed: black hair, age lines around the eyes, clothes a haphazard mix of salvaged armor and worker’s leathers that had done nothing to protect the man from having his skull caved in by a piece of falling debris. AVALANCHE, then. 

He left the dead man there and kept going, the bridge groaning unpleasantly under his feet. The next several bodies he found were similar to the first: AVALANCHE members, all killed by the explosion as best he could tell. Rufus had said he’d tried to negotiate with them, implying that neither Noctis nor Reno had gone in swinging. Maybe that was why Noctis had thought some of them could be saved. 

The bridge stretched across the mako storage tanks to meet the outer wall of the reactor, built into the wall of the valley itself. Most of the pump equipment and the metal paneling that had once lined the wall was gone, ripped off and tossed around in the explosions. Or it had slid straight down the wall, taking out chunks of the wider walkway that ringed the outside of the reactor. Cloud had to clamber like a mountain goat from handhold to handhold along the wall, and in one unpleasant instance, leap blindly through a pillar of thick black smoke. 

On the other side of the smoke, roughly a third of the way around the reactor, he found another bridge stretching back toward the central pillar. It was built along the rims of the two neighboring tanks just like the one he’d crossed, but while the first two tanks had been half full, the third looked completely empty. Cloud eased closer, until he could lean against the walkway railing and peer straight down into the tank. 

It was maybe fifty or sixty feet to the bottom, and nothing but a small puddle of mako remained in the deepest part. Fallen debris surrounded the puddle, some of it burning and sending more smoke up through the reactor’s well, and Cloud had to squint to make anything out. Finally, though, he spotted another body curled amidst the debris near the edge of the puddle, the purple uniform of a SOLDIER Second bright against the concrete. 

Noctis. 


	24. Vice President ShinRa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis Lucis Caelum is full of surprises. So, it turns out, is Rufus ShinRa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rufus's age isn't indicated at all in the original game or the greater Compilation. The closest we get is in the novel _On the Way to a Smile_ where, during the Diamond Weapon's attack on Midgar, Rufus recalls an event from "almost twenty years ago" when he was five, which would put him at 24 or 25 years old at the end of the OG. (The Remake aged him up to 30 at the time of his appearance in that game, but I'm ignoring that for now.) Going by that mention from the novel, Rufus is no more than 19 or 20 at this point in _Providence_.

Fifteen minutes of scrounging through the debris scattered across the walkway netted Cloud a hundred or so feet of loose cable, probably part of some larger support structure that had snapped loose when the reactor exploded. He was in the process of tying it around a reasonably stable support pillar when he heard running footsteps on the other side of the thick column of smoke billowing across the walkway. Dropping the cable, he drew First Tsurugi and held it at the ready. 

Rufus ShinRa leaped through the smoke, landing gracefully on the walkway just short of the sword’s tip. He glanced down at it, then up at Cloud, apparently unconcerned by the fact that he’d nearly impaled himself. “Have you found Noct yet?” 

Cloud rolled his eyes and slung First Tsurugi onto his back, then jerked his head at the empty tank below. Rufus leaned over the railing, peering down through the smoky haze to where Noctis lay curled at the edge of the shallow mako puddle. “Is he alive?” 

“Far as I can tell.” 

“Odd,” Rufus murmured. “What happened to the mako?” 

“The reactor exploded,” Cloud said dryly. “This tank was probably where that chain reaction happened that set off the mako.” 

But Rufus shook his head. “This isn’t the first reactor explosion I’ve seen. Even an explosion that size wouldn’t have completely emptied the tank like this.”

“Just because you’ve never seen it doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen,” Cloud said. He finished tying off the cable, then threw the loose end down into the tank. Wrapping a few loops around his forearm over his gauntlet, he stepped to the edge of the walkway, in a gap where the railing had been smashed away. “Stay there.” 

The cable hissed around his arm as he rappelled down the sloped side of the tank. A thin film of mako still slicked the concrete, making it easy to descend, though getting back up - especially while carrying Noctis - would be trickier. Maybe Rufus would make himself useful? Cloud snorted to himself. _Who am I kidding._

The bottom of the tank was sloped inward toward the center, where the shallow puddle of mako remained. Noctis lay curled in a fetal position, the fingers of his right hand just shy of the puddle’s edge. A bright, flickering light caught Cloud’s eye, and he leaned closer, trying to see what it was. It seemed to be coming from Noctis’s hand, and for a moment Cloud had the wild thought that it was some kind of coded signaling device, until he realized it was actually the mako light shining off a small, glittering diamond set in an ornate black ring on Noctis’s finger. Another gift from Rufus? Come to think of it, Rufus had called Noctis by a nickname, too. 

But that was a problem for after they all got out of this reactor alive. Cloud set his feet against the slippery concrete, braced against the cable wrapped around his gauntlet, and leaned down to grab Noctis by the arm— 

_UNWORTHY_

_YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DISTURB REFLECTION_

_and a cold blue eye turns toward him from within the steel-fanged mouth of a dragon—_

Cloud cried out and jerked his hand away, fighting against a surge of panic. _What the hell…?_ That had felt horribly like the times Sephiroth, the one from his original timeline, had reached into Cloud’s skull, an alien power rearranging his thoughts, pressing against his mind, far stronger than anything Cloud could possibly resist— 

“Commander!” 

Rufus. Cloud blinked, gasping, and dragged himself back to the present. Rufus shouted again, and Cloud waved to show he’d heard. “Mako side effects,” he called back. “Give me a sec.” 

He could see the impatience on Rufus’s face even from down here, through the smoke and the mako haze, but thankfully the man stayed put on the walkway. Cloud looked down at Noctis again, considering his options. He’d grabbed Noctis’s upper arm, bared as was usual in his SOLDIER uniform. Despite what he’d said to Rufus, no mako clung to Noctis’s skin that might have caused such a reaction. Or his clothes or hair, which was downright odd, since he was in a mako tank and all the debris around him was covered in mako. Maybe it had to do with his weird reaction to the SOLDIER treatments, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, Cloud didn’t want to try touching him again. 

Noctis’s sword was missing, but he still wore the harness for it, its straps loose thanks to the way he was curled. Cloud braced himself again, then cautiously hooked his fingers through one of the loose straps. 

No weird mako visions. He breathed a sigh of relief, then adjusted his grip so he could lift Noctis by the sword harness without otherwise touching him. The climb back up the side of the tank was awkward and exhausting, but to Cloud’s surprise Rufus leaned over the edge as soon as he was within reach, and helped haul Noctis up onto the walkway. 

“Mako poisoning,” Rufus muttered, checking Noctis’s vitals with a practiced hand. If he felt any odd side effects from touching Noctis’s skin, he didn’t show it. “Has to be. He needs to get to a doctor.” 

“Not a lot of doctors around here,” Cloud pointed out.

“The Gold Saucer maintains a medical ward in case of emergencies,” Rufus said calmly. “We’ll take him and Reno there.” 

“Great,” Cloud said. “Don’t suppose you got that service stairwell open.” 

“Better,” Rufus said, and pointed up.

As if on cue - and who knew, this was Rufus, maybe he’d timed it somehow - the sound of a helicoptor’s blades cut through the distant wailing of alarms and crackling of flames. The smoke overhead whirled, and a sleek black ShinRa chopper sank down to hover over the center of the mako tank. It was a smaller model than the big long-range one Cloud and the others had flown in on, marked with an elaborately stylized version of the ShinRa logo - probably Rufus’s private helicopter, the one he’d used to get here. Rude was at the controls, and Tseng and Kunsel leaned out the open door.

“Our chariot awaits,” Rufus said smugly. 

* * *

“How is he?” Tseng asked. 

The Gold Saucer’s doctor, a round man with curly hair and smudged glasses, sat back from Reno’s bedside and let his stethoscope drop to hang around his neck. “A minor case of mako poisoning,” he said. “Hardly enough to qualify for the name. Nothing warranting intervention, certainly. He’ll just need to rest for a while until the mako works its way out of his system.” 

Tseng nodded once; if he felt any relief that Reno would be okay, it didn’t show on his face. Rude, though, noticeably relaxed where he stood at Tseng’s shoulder, rubbing a hand over his mouth before sitting down on the bed next to Reno. The doctor picked up his little medical bag and bustled over to the other infirmary bed to begin examining Noctis. 

Cloud and the others had arrived here half an hour ago. Thankfully for Cloud’s ability to deal with the situation, Barret and Dyne hadn’t accompanied them. Kunsel had told them about the evacuation and managed to send them on their way back down the mountain right before Rude had arrived with the chopper. Cloud wasn’t sure about the timing, but he thought it would work out - the two men would be able to intercept the fleeing Corel residents and join them on the way to safety in Gongaga. 

Which just left dealing with Rufus, Reno, and Noctis. The Gold Saucer’s medical ward was primarily meant to treat injuries sustained in the chocobo races or in Battle Square, but the doctor seemed competent enough. He’d looked Rufus over already, but Cloud had spent the entire helicopter ride casting curative magic on him and the others, so that by the time they’d arrived all that was left to address was Reno’s mako poisoning and Noctis’s… whatever. 

Leaning against the wall next to Kunsel, Cloud watched as the doctor checked Noctis’s vitals. Thankfully, the bizarre mako vision Cloud had had back at the reactor when he’d first touched Noctis hadn’t reoccurred since, not to Cloud and also not to Kunsel and Tseng when they’d helped wrangle Noctis into the chopper. The doctor didn’t seem to notice anything unusual, either, and Cloud was hoping it had been nothing more than a side effect of breathing the smoky, mako-infused air in the tank. 

Rufus stood at the foot of Noctis’s bed, doing a bad job of pretending to be occupied with his PHS while actually watching Noctis out of the corner of his eye. Cloud wasn’t sure if he should be worried that Rufus seemed more concerned about Noctis than he ought to be if he was only interested in him as a weapon in the war for control of the company. Rufus ShinRa - at least, the one Cloud had known - didn’t have friends. He had servants in the form of the Turks, and he had possessions in the form of all the people under ShinRa’s thumb, but he didn’t have anyone he cared about enough to hover by their bedside. 

The doctor sat back, a frown furrowing his forehead. “Odd,” he murmured.

“What is it?” Rufus asked, just a shade too fast to be casual, though he didn’t look up from his PHS. 

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with this one,” the doctor said, nodding at Noctis. “No injuries, no sign of mako exposure. I’d almost say he was merely sleeping.” 

“It’s not out of the question,” Tseng admitted. “Sergeant Caelum is known for sleeping like the dead.” 

The doctor made an amused sound. “I’d say the dead sleep more lightly. Nevertheless, I see nothing physically amiss with him.”

“No mako poisoning?” Rufus asked. “But—” He snapped his mouth closed, clearly deciding not to say anything further in front of the doctor. 

“No signs of it,” the doctor said. “Like I said, he seems to simply be sleeping deeply.” He’d been packing his little kit as he spoke; now he stood up and bustled toward the door. “Feel free to use this room as long as you’d like, gentlemen. You won’t be disturbed.” 

“Thank you,” Tseng said, with a small polite smile that had the doctor scurrying out of the room in terror. Tseng had impressed on him, when they’d first arrived, that no one was to know Rufus ShinRa was in the Gold Saucer, nor that a SOLDIER and a Turk had been treated in the infirmary. At least the message had probably stuck. 

The door slammed shut behind the doctor, and Tseng shifted his weight in a motion that looked innocuous but resulted in him standing directly in front of the door. With the room secure, Rufus put away his PHS. “Wake him up,” he ordered the room at large. 

Rude glanced up from watching Reno but didn’t move, and Tseng likewise stayed put by the door, which meant it was up to Cloud. He sighed and pushed away from the wall. “Noctis,” he said sharply, and shook the man’s shoulder hard. Noctis didn’t wake up, but proved he really was just sleeping by rolling over and trying to curl under nonexistent covers. Cloud grabbed him by the upper arm like a kid and hauled him half upright, the way he’d done the first time he’d had to wake Noctis up. 

Dangling from Cloud’s grip on his arm, Noctis made an incoherent noise and blinked one eye half-open. Cloud said, “Quit napping on the job,” and dropped him unceremoniously onto the bed. 

For a bad second he thought Noctis was going to curl up and go right back to sleep, but then Noctis sat up sharply, grey eyes flying wide as he looked around. When he spotted first Rufus, then Reno, he noticeably relaxed. “What happened?” he asked Rufus. “Where are we?” 

“The Gold Saucer,” Rufus answered. “There was a second explosion from the mako in the tanks.”

“Oh.” Noctis lifted a hand as if to run it through his hair, but then stopped, turning it over to glare at the heavy black ring on his finger. Its gem didn’t glitter nearly so brightly in the soft light of the medical ward, but it was still eye-catching. Scowling, Noctis yanked the ring off and shoved it into a pocket, then took a deep breath and looked up at Rufus. “You’re okay?” 

“Fine,” Rufus said, then to Cloud’s surprise - and probably that of everyone in the room - he inclined his head slightly to Noctis. “Thanks to you.” 

Noctis, however, didn’t seem surprised at all. “No problem,” he said easily, and rolled to his feet, clapping Rufus lightly on the shoulder. From where he stood beside the bed, Cloud saw both Tseng’s aborted motion to intervene, and the brief startled look that flashed across Rufus’s face, followed by something almost…

Almost _pleased_. That was a worrying thought: Rufus ShinRa making _friends_? With _Noctis_? 

The sound of a PHS ringing made everyone in the room startle, except for Tseng, who pulled his PHS out of his pocket and flipped it open. Turning his back on the room, he spoke quietly into the device. Cloud’s mako-enhanced hearing would have let him pick out the words regardless, but he was more interested in Noctis, who was asking Rufus, “Did any of the AVALANCHE people make it out?” 

Rufus shook his head. “They seem to have decided that if they wouldn’t get a shot at my father, a suicide run against me was the next best thing.” 

“Damn,” Noctis muttered. 

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Tseng ended his call and turned to Rufus. “Sir, that was Headquarters. Scarlet is on her way to handle cleanup of the reactor situation—”

“No!” Cloud burst out before he could catch himself. Everyone in the room turned to stare at him and he flinched back, but made himself look up at Rufus. “Not Scarlet. She’ll wipe out Corel.” 

“What?” Noctis asked, startled. “Why?” 

“A cover-up,” Cloud said bitterly. “Blame the people of Corel for blowing up the reactor so ShinRa doesn’t have to admit it was AVALANCHE.” 

Tseng studied Cloud with narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?” 

Shit. Cloud knew because it was what she’d done in his timeline, but he couldn’t very well say so in front of Rufus and Tseng. Then Kunsel stepped forward, the faceless stare of his helmet fixed on Tseng. “Of all the people in this room,” he said flatly, “Commander Strife and I are the most intimately acquainted with the lengths ShinRa will go to cover up its mistakes.” 

“We can’t afford to let news get out that terrorists were able to destroy a reactor,” Rufus mused.

“Vice President ShinRa,” Noctis said. His voice was perfectly neutral, yet there was a gravitas to it that cut through Cloud’s panic. When he looked over at Noctis, the man was standing tall and watching Rufus with calm composure in his grey eyes. It was the same regal poise he’d shown in Wutai weeks ago, speaking to Lord Godo as if they were equals. 

Whatever the hell it was, it seemed to have a similar effect on Rufus. He met Noctis’s gaze for what felt like an hour but in reality was probably only a few seconds, then turned to Tseng. “But we don’t need to destroy an entire village as a cover-up. Meet Scarlet when she arrives and ensure that she handles the situation appropriately.” 

“If we don’t blame _someone_ ,” Tseng said, “it will cause fear in the populace that reactors might blow up on their own—” 

But Rufus cut him off. “There’s been an upswing in monster activity lately, especially around reactors. Blame that.” 

“Sir—”

Rufus silenced him with a look. Tseng’s expression flattened into his professional Turk face, and he spun on one heel toward the door. “Rude,” he snapped, and Rude scrambled up from Reno’s bedside to follow him out of the room. 

When the door had closed behind them, Rufus sighed and looked over at Noctis, who gave him a small, pleased smile. “It won’t happen overnight,” Noctis said, as though continuing a conversation.

“I know,” Rufus said tiredly. For a moment he didn’t look like the cold, confident ShinRa President Cloud had known in his timeline - just young and frustrated. “I need to get out of here before Scarlet arrives. Why don’t you stay here for the rest of the weekend, with the Firsts?”

“I could go with you, if you want,” Noctis offered.

Rufus shook his head. “It’s better if you don’t. I’m supposed to be at the estate right now, but your mission was in North Corel, so it won’t be strange if you take the rest of the weekend off.” He turned to Cloud and Kunsel, his demeanor shifting back to the more familiar aloof tycoon. “Everything that happened today is highly classified, including my presence at the reactor and everything you just heard here. Understood?” 

Kunsel snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!” 

Cloud nodded, then when Rufus’s glare darkened, added a “Yes, sir,” of his own. Somehow - impossibly - Rufus had ordered Tseng not to let Corel take the blame for the reactor explosion. The least Cloud could do was not antagonize him. 

Rufus nodded once - then hesitated, his eyes flicking briefly to Noctis before turning back to Cloud and Kunsel. “Thank you,” he said, the words stilted and uncomfortable. Then he swept out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to go and write an entire ten-page side story to figure out what conversation Noctis and Rufus were continuing. XD


	25. King of the Arcade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SOLDIERs get a day of fun and relaxation in the Gold Saucer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basically treating the Gold Saucer like an extra-large Las Vegas hotel, in terms of attractions/shops/districts/etc.

“Ooh!” Zack exclaimed. “Come on, guys, we have _got_ to try this!” He tugged on Cloud’s arm, dragging him up the steps of Speed Square to join the line for the roller coaster. Kunsel, hanging onto Cloud’s other arm, laughed as he was pulled along with them. 

It was the day after the explosion at the Corel Reactor. Last night, after leaving the infirmary, Cloud and Kunsel had taken Noctis to Ghost Square to get a hotel room. Despite Kunsel’s attempts to draw him into conversation, Noctis had been frustratingly noncommittal the whole time about both the events at the reactor and his relationship with Rufus. He had retired to his room with a yawned _g’night_ , and Cloud and Kunsel had immediately checked into their own room, then called a conference with the rest of the Firsts to tell them what had happened. 

The six of them had spent hours going in circles with increasingly wild speculation: Noctis was a lost Wutai prince, bent on vengeance for his country. Noctis was a Cetra, trying to save the Planet from ShinRa’s excesses. Noctis was a time-traveler from the new future Cloud had created in this timeline, trying to stop a new catastrophe caused by Rufus. 

Kunsel had turned the discussion then by pointing out that Rufus ShinRa should never have been at the reactor in the first place. Rufus had mentioned to Cloud that the AVALANCHE crew hadn’t wanted to negotiate - but negotiate what? When Noctis had asked Rufus what happened, Rufus had said something about AVALANCHE wanting to take a shot at his father. Had the reactor stunt been an attempt to assassinate President ShinRa? If so, had Rufus gone to negotiate with them about it? 

Except ShinRa didn’t negotiate with terrorists, and if they _had_ wanted to, they would have sent Rufus in with considerably more protection than a Turk and a Second Class SOLDIER. Furthermore, Rufus had implied that he wasn’t supposed to be there at all, and had told Cloud and Kunsel to keep his presence a secret. Did that mean this was part of Rufus’s fight for control of ShinRa? Had he intended to help his father’s death along using AVALANCHE as a cat’s paw? Cloud found it hard to believe that Rufus would have any underhanded dealings with AVALANCHE, given how he’d treated them in Cloud’s timeline, but as Kunsel pointed out, things had changed quite a bit from Cloud’s timeline. 

Finally, when the haunted bell tower rang two AM, they’d reluctantly concluded that they simply didn’t have enough information. Sephiroth had instructed them to do their best to rest and relax while they had the chance, but to also keep an eye on Noctis and take any opportunity they had to draw him into conversation. “He told Angeal about Rufus’s attempt to bribe SOLDIERs,” Sephiroth pointed out. “Whatever his goal, he seems willing to treat us as allies for now. Let’s ensure that doesn’t change.” 

Of course, engaging Noctis in conversation meant _finding_ him. True to form, he’d apparently slept in; no one had spotted him all morning. Zack had dragged Cloud and Kunsel past Noctis’s door three times already, but he’d never answered. Cloud had finally convinced Zack to be patient, and they’d gone exploring the rest of the Gold Saucer. Which was how they’d ended up at Speed Square, climbing into the hard plastic seats of the Shooter Coaster. 

Cloud hadn’t ever ridden the thing before - he couldn’t fathom why anyone would willingly get tossed and spun and flipped at high speeds, all while trying to focus on and shoot moving targets with a light gun. But Zack’s enthusiasm was catching, and even Kunsel bounced excitedly in his seat as the car clicked its way up to the top of the first drop. Cloud had convinced Kunsel to wear civilian clothes like the rest of them were doing, and without his ever-present helmet, the delight in his blue eyes was obvious.

The ride itself was a blur of bright lights and stomach-churning twists and drops. When it was finally over, Cloud staggered out of the car, leaning on the side of the prize booth to catch his breath. He usually didn’t get motion sick anymore, thanks to the mako treatments, but that ride had given his newfound immunity a run for its money. 

Behind him, Zack chuckled. “I guess coasters aren’t your thing, huh?” 

Cloud groaned in response. 

“Come on,” Kunsel said, patting him sympathetically on the back. “We haven’t been to Wonder Square yet - I want to see what games they have!” 

“Those things?” Cloud said without lifting his head. “They’re a waste of GP.” 

“It’s a good thing we aren’t paying for our own GP, then, huh?” Zack asked. Suddenly he bent down and scooped Cloud up in his arms in one quick motion. “Let’s go!” 

Cloud yelped and squirmed, but didn’t put up a real fight as Zack carried him out of Speed Square toward the connector to Wonder Square. Being here with Zack and Kunsel, laughing and joking, reminded him of all the times he and Zack had hung out in Cloud’s timeline. Back then, Zack had treated Cloud like a younger brother, manhandling him with easy familiarity. In this timeline, Cloud was a decade older than Zack, but he wasn’t much bigger than he’d been at sixteen. Zack clearly didn’t see a problem with treating him exactly the same. 

Maybe it was stupid to be nostalgic for that, but Cloud didn’t care. He’d done the right thing by changing this timeline and saving Zack from everything he would have gone through, but Cloud still missed the friend he’d known. This kind of comfortable teasing was a little piece of what he’d lost, all those years ago. 

Zack finally put him down at the entrance to the main game room of Wonder Square, evidently so that he had his hands free as he ran over to the nearest arcade machine. “Look, it’s an arm-wrestling game!” he called over his shoulder. “Bet you I can beat it!” 

“Maybe if you did push-ups all day instead of squats,” Kunsel teased. 

Zack laughed, already sliding his Gold Card through the reader to activate the game. “Watch and learn, buddy. Watch and learn!” 

As he wrestled the mechanical arm, Cloud glanced around at the rest of the room. It was a Friday, and the Gold Saucer was already packed with weekend tourists: the lines for some of the games were five or six people deep. 

...No, that wasn’t a line. Cloud frowned, stepping forward to get a better look through the big archway into the next room. A huge crowd of people was gathered around something there, occasionally cheering or groaning - sometimes both at the same time. Watching more closely, Cloud spotted money changing hands here and there. Whatever was going on, it had already drawn gamblers and the bookies who fed on them like parasites. 

Leaving Zack at the arm-wrestling machine with Kunsel egging him on, Cloud slipped through the arch and stood on his toes, trying to see what was going on. But all he could make out was the top edge of what looked like a big fancy screen for a new arcade game.

“Six to one he survives this level,” a bookie said at Cloud’s elbow, holding out a notebook and looking up at him expectantly. “Special deal right now, double return on the fifteen-to-one he survives the next level but dies in the boss fight.” 

“What’s going on?” Cloud asked her. “What are you taking bets on?” 

The bookie, a wiry grey-haired woman, pointed at the front of the crowd as though Cloud couldn’t tell what everyone was focused on. “Some crazy guy is dominating that new game they installed recently. Nobody’s seen high scores like this in the entire history of the Gold Saucer!”

Cloud raised his eyebrows. “Must be some guy.” 

“Sure is,” the bookie agreed. “Heard he might be a SOLDIER. That would explain the reflexes.” She paused, really looking at Cloud for the first time. “Hey, your eyes—”

“Mako poisoning,” Cloud said quickly. He didn’t think it was common knowledge that all of the SOLDIER Firsts were at the Gold Saucer; people would eventually figure it out when they saw Genesis and Sephiroth wandering around, but Cloud didn’t want to deal with being recognized until he had to. He nodded at the bookie, then slipped deeper into the crowd. She’d said the guy playing the game was a SOLDIER - maybe it was Genesis up there. He couldn’t imagine Angeal or Sephiroth playing video games. But when he finally made his way to the front of the crowd, he realized he’d forgotten there was a seventh SOLDIER at the Gold Saucer this weekend. 

Noctis stood at the console, dressed in his all-black civilian clothes, his grey eyes fixed on the screen, his fingers flying over the controls. Cloud had no idea what was going on in the game - all he could make out was brightly-colored cartoon figures darting around amid flashing explosions - but Noctis, and most of the crowd, seemed to have no trouble following the action. Noctis swore under his breath half a second before groans rippled through the watchers, followed a moment later by a cheer as he apparently vanquished whatever foe he was fighting. 

“How long has he been here?” Cloud asked one of the nearby spectators. 

“Three or four hours,” the man answered without taking his eyes off the gameplay. “Guy’s a _machine!_ ”

Cloud’s eyebrows went up again. That meant Noctis had been out here playing before Cloud and the others had left their own rooms. Maybe they’d finally found something the guy was willing to wake up for. “I didn’t know these games went that long,” Cloud said.

“Oh, no, this is his sixth run while I’ve been watching,” the man said cheerfully. “And the leaderboard is all him, so he did at least nine more before that.” 

“He has to have,” a teenage boy piped up from the man’s other side. “Playing these games takes a lot of skill, but also a lot of memorization. Enemy position, timing—”

Cloud tuned him out. Noctis had just done something that set the crowd cheering again, and the bookies’ calls were getting louder. From the sound of it, Noctis had reached the final level, and plenty of bets were being made about whether or not he’d beat the game. Just for fun, Cloud let the grey-haired bookie talk him into placing a bet of his own: a hundred gil on Noctis winning. 

The bet paid off when, five minutes later, the last cartoon enemy disappeared in a burst of colorful explosions. Noctis flung his hands into the air in victory as the crowd roared in delight, combined with some disappointed grumblings from those who’d bet against him and lost. Cloud collected his winning ticket from the bookie while Noctis entered his initials onto the high scores list, then stepped up into his peripheral vision. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” Noctis glanced briefly at him, then did a double-take. “Oh. Hey, Cloud.” 

“Didn’t figure you’d be out and about yet.” 

Noctis chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, well, for once I woke up early.” He seemed to notice the crowd then, his expression going flat, his spine straightening. It wasn’t unlike when Genesis noticed a camera pointed at him, except instead of posing dramatically, Noctis closed off into distant aloofness. Cloud thought about how he hid his face in photos, and wondered suddenly if it was just because he didn’t like being stared at. 

“I’m done for now,” Noctis said, adding a point in favor of Cloud’s guess. “Wanna grab lunch?” 

“Sure.” Cloud glanced at the crowd. Some of them had dispersed, apparently satisfied with their winnings, but others were still watching Noctis expectantly. Cloud stepped forward, making a shooing gesture at the nearest watchers. “Show’s over,” he said. “Move along.” 

Ignoring the protests and grumbling that followed his words, Cloud shouldered his way through the crowd, Noctis close on his heels with his head down. Several people congratulated or thanked him as they passed, to which Noctis hunched his shoulders and flashed a tight smile. From the corner of his eye, Cloud saw a particularly excited gambler, one hand still clutching his winning ticket, reach out with the other hand toward Noctis. Probably an innocuous gesture, intending to clap him on the shoulder or shake his hand, but Cloud didn’t like how tense Noctis looked. 

Shifting his stride, Cloud managed to end up between the excited gambler and Noctis a second before the guy’s hand would have connected. Cloud met the guy’s eyes just long enough for him to get the message, and he backed away with an annoyed grumble. 

“Thanks,” Noctis muttered, just loud enough for Cloud to hear. “I _hate_ crowds.” 

“You didn’t seem to mind the one watching you.” 

Noctis’s shoulders hunched up around his ears for a second before he seemed to remember himself and straightened his spine again, though he still kept his head tilted so that his hair fell across his face. “They’re easier to ignore when I’m playing. And I didn’t realize how many people there were.” He glanced over his shoulder at the people still milling around, arguing with the bookies or celebrating with their friends. “The crowds at the arcade back home were never like that.” 

Cloud grunted in assent. They made their way through the rest of the crowd without incident, finally breaking free to the relatively clear area near the entrance where Zack was still unsuccessfully battling the arm-wrestling machine. Noctis said, “You know those things are rigged, right?” 

“What—Augh!” Zack collapsed against the side of the machine as its mechanical arm flipped him down yet again. 

Kunsel laughed. “I think he’s right,” he said to Zack. “You’ve tried eight times already. Just let it go.” 

Zack groaned, but stepped away from the machine. “Fine, fine. Hey, Noctis. You’re finally awake?” 

“He beat us all here,” Cloud said before Noctis could answer, and jerked a thumb at the machine in the other room. “Apparently he’s been setting new high scores all morning.” 

“Really?” Zack perked up. “I’ve only played a few of these things before, in the pubs in Midgar. I’ve never gotten on the leaderboard!” 

“You have to know which machines are worth spending time on,” Noctis said, and nodded at the arm-wrestling game. “Like I said, those are rigged. Once in a blue moon someone will win, but mostly they’re designed to make you spend all your credits really fast.” 

“It was working, too,” Kunsel said, and elbowed Zack in the ribs.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zack said, though he was grinning. Turning back to Noctis, he said, “So which ones _are_ worth spending time on, O King of the Arcade?” 

Something flashed across Noctis’s face at that, there and gone so fast that Cloud almost didn’t register it. Something… dark, and heavy, and almost sad. Before he could comment, though, Noctis was smiling again as though the moment hadn’t happened.

“Ugh,” Noctis said. “Call me Noct. It’s way too formal to use my whole name.” 

Zack laughed. “Okay, Arcade King Noct.” 

Noctis thumped him in the arm. “Seriously. Just Noct. And if you want to know which machines to play, start with this one over here.” 

They continued to banter as Noctis led Zack through the archway into the other room to a different arcade machine. Following on their heels, Cloud glanced at Kunsel. From the look on his face, Kunsel had noticed it, too: Noctis really didn’t like being called _king_. 

“Maybe his fan club isn’t that far off the mark after all,” Kunsel murmured, his voice pitched for Cloud’s ears only. “If he _is_ a Wutai prince, then he’s probably pissed that ShinRa’s victory in the war means he’ll never be Wutai’s king.” 

Cloud just shrugged. It was a stretch, at best - conjecture based on Noctis’s vaguely Wutaian appearance, his regal manners, and now, his reaction to being called “Arcade King”. 

Kunsel made a rueful expression. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I know he won’t give us a straight answer if we ask, but I wish he would.”

“It’s a good thing our orders are to relax and have fun, then,” Cloud pointed out. “People are more open with their friends.” 

“Finally figured out how we got to you, huh?” Kunsel teased, slinging an arm around Cloud’s shoulders. 

Up ahead, Noctis and Zack had stopped in front of a machine similar to the one Noctis had been playing earlier. Zack slid his Gold Card through the reader and took up position in front of the array of buttons. Cloud and Kunsel watched as Noctis explained the controls to Zack, walking him through the first couple of fights before stepping back and letting him play on his own. 

Zack lasted all of two more minutes, then stepped away from the machine as his character died in a fiery cartoon explosion. “I have no idea how you do that,” he said to Noctis. “It’s nothing like a real fight.” 

“That’s what makes it fun,” Noctis answered, grinning. “But you have to practice if you want to get anywhere, just like a real fight.”

“Nah, I’ll stick to the stupid games,” Zack said. “I’m here to relax, not to train!” 

“Suit yourself.” Noctis shrugged. “Anyway, Cloud and I were going to go get lunch. Want to join?” 

“Lunch sounds good,” Zack agreed. “C’mon, I saw a place that sells ten-inch burgers back by Event Square!” 

* * *

The four of them spent the afternoon exploring the Gold Saucer. After gorging themselves sick on ridiculously over-elaborate burgers, they watched the chocobo races until Cloud let slip that he knew Ester, the race manager, from his last visit almost two years ago. Noctis evidently loved chocobos as much as he loved cats and dogs, so Cloud took them backstage where Noctis fawned over the resident birds and Kunsel and Ester talked race betting. 

Ester finally kicked them out when the next race was about to start, so they went back to Event Square next to catch one of the plays. It was fortunately different than the one Cloud had performed in with Aeris all those years ago, and he mostly managed not to spend the time thinking about that ill-fated date. That only lasted until Zack suggested they visit Round Square and ride the gondola, but at least riding with Zack, Kunsel, and Noctis in the last glow of afternoon sunlight was nothing like riding under the velvet night sky with Aeris. 

Distracted by both the memories and his friends, Cloud didn’t notice right away that someone was waiting for them when they got off the gondola. Then Zack and Kunsel, who had been joking about trying the absurd alcoholic milkshakes at a shop near Battle Square, fell abruptly silent. Following their gaze, Cloud froze. 

Reno of the Turks stood near the Round Square exit, clearly waiting for them. He looked mostly recovered from his mako exposure yesterday; only the pallor of his cheeks hinted at what he’d been through. He lifted a hand in a lazy wave as they approached. “Yo.” 

“Reno,” Noctis said neutrally. 

Cloud glanced at him; Noctis had fallen into his straight-backed, expressionless pose, and was watching Reno warily. Odd, since Noctis was apparently in Rufus’s good graces - or perhaps not so odd. Tseng had clearly disliked Noctis’s influence over Rufus. Maybe the Turks weren’t happy about Noctis hanging around their boss. 

But Reno grinned, bright and cheerful. “Wanted to thank you for your help down in the reactor, yo. If you hadn’t been there, I’d’ve died in that explosion. Lemme buy you a drink.” 

“Oh, cool,” Zack jumped in. “We were just heading for drinks ourselves—”

“Ah, sorry,” Reno broke in. “Made reservations for two. And anyway, you guys are supposed to be on vacation. Sergeant Caelum and I are gonna be talking business.” 

Noctis glanced at Cloud and Zack, rolling his eyes behind his bangs in a way that conveyed _duty calls_. “I’ll catch you guys later,” he said, and followed Reno out of Round Square toward Terminal Station. 

“Aww,” Zack said, and rubbed the back of his neck. “We were having fun, too!” 

Kunsel frowned. “I wonder what ‘business’ Reno wants to talk about.” 

“You think it’s connected to the reactor?” Cloud asked, suddenly worried. If Rufus had changed his mind about blaming Corel…

But Kunsel shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m just not sure what else it could be. And that,” he added, “is what worries me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My partner is a button-mashing machine and even he can barely beat the arm-wrestling minigame in the OG...


	26. A Drunken Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angeal and Noctis have a late-night chat.

The Gold Saucer was a pleasant enough place during the day, when the hot sun of the Corel Plains gleamed off its glittering domes and excited children ran wild through its halls. But it really came into its own at night, when its brilliant spotlights and flashing neon signs lit everything in a kaleidoscope of color, and brightly-dressed adults explored its more mature offerings. Angeal was tempted to stay up even later than he already had, just to enjoy the spectacle, the bustle of life around him. 

But he’d had a long day already, and the lights and the noise were starting to dig into the base of his skull to form a throbbing headache. Better to go to sleep now and be able to appreciate the place again tomorrow, than to overstimulate himself tonight. Besides, he couldn’t deny that the way the day had ended was more than amusing enough. Angeal wasn’t sure which he found funnier: that Sephiroth had decided to show support for Cloud by corralling Genesis for an entire day so Cloud could spend the time with Kunsel and Zack - or that Genesis hadn’t realized it was happening until nearly midnight. 

In all honesty, the fact that Sephiroth was both conscientious enough to think to do something like that for Cloud, and socially savvy enough to pull it off, was impressive in and of itself. In the years Angeal had known the man, Sephiroth had never been one to show that much interest in, much less consideration for, another person. And that he’d thought to demonstrate that consideration not with swords, the way he handled everything else, but by giving Cloud space with his friends, suggested that maybe - finally - he was unlearning the worst of Hojo’s programming. 

He’d let Angeal know of his plans yesterday morning on the helipad waiting for their departure, and Angeal, intrigued, had agreed to help. They’d taken Genesis to see the morning performance of _Loveless_ in Event Square, which had been delightfully bad enough that Genesis had spent all of lunch and the next several hours’ worth of wandering around the shops complaining about everything it had gotten wrong. Angeal knew Sephiroth had been making use of his and Cloud’s connection to ensure they never wandered too close, and Sephiroth had more than once allowed himself to be drawn into spirited arguments over interpretations which Angeal suspected had been timed to prevent them from crossing paths with Cloud and the others. 

Once Genesis’s complaints had begun to show signs of slowing, Sephiroth had taken them to Battle Square. He hadn’t had to openly challenge Genesis to a competition; the mere fact that Sephiroth effortlessly surmounted his first run through the gauntlet was enough to keep the three of them there for the rest of the afternoon. It had helped, too, that the other visitors to the Gold Saucer had cottoned on to the fact that the Silver General and the Hero of Wutai were dominating the Battle Square leaderboards: Genesis hadn’t been able to resist showing off for his fans. Angeal had been the one to eventually call it quits, hauling the two of them away to a late dinner when the grumbling of his stomach became too loud to ignore. 

They’d been finishing dinner when Genesis had finally realized he’d been played, and that he wouldn’t get a chance to see Cloud at all today. Sephiroth, of course, refused to admit he’d done anything, his expression impassive in the face of Genesis’s wrath. Angeal had never been as good at keeping a poker face, which meant he’d had to endure a solid fifteen minutes of scolding before managing to extricate himself. He didn’t feel guilty at all about leaving Sephiroth to Genesis’s continued complaints; this had been Sephiroth’s idea, after all. 

Angeal had planned to head straight for his own room to sleep, but stopped short when he spotted a familiar black-clothed figure weaving unsteadily down the hallway ahead of him. “Noctis?” 

Noctis turned, overbalanced, and bounced off the wall. Angeal crossed the distance between them in time to catch him by the arm before he could trip over the potted plant behind him. “Noctis,” he said again. “Are you all right?” 

“Yes,” Noctis said, then squinted at him. “No,” he amended. “I’m drunk. Reno cheated.” 

Angeal felt his eyebrows climb to his hairline. He knew Reno was at the Gold Saucer from last night’s discussion with Cloud and the others, but wasn’t sure how that translated to Noctis being falling-down drunk. “You’re a SOLDIER.”

“Yeah, and I can still get drunk,” Noctis said. His words were decidedly blurry around the edges, and even with Angeal’s hand gripping his arm to steady him, he was swaying. “Sucks. All that and I don’t even get the benefits.” 

“Okay…” Angeal muttered. “Where’s your room? If you’re drunk, you should go to bed.”

“Trying,” Noctis said. “But I’unno where my room is. Thought it was right here, but…” He made a vague gesture. “Key’s not working.” 

Angeal resisted the urge to clap a hand over his eyes. “Okay,” he repeated, and sighed. Trying to wrangle a drunk Noctis through asking the front desk for help, especially given how rigidly the employees stuck to the haunted house gimmick, did _not_ sound appealing. “Then how about you come to my room for now. They gave me one with two beds.” 

Noctis shrugged. “Sure. Mine’s full of spiders anyway.” 

It took Angeal a second to realize he probably meant large, comically fake spiders, given the theme of the Ghost Inn. “...Right. Come on.” 

Fortunately, Angeal’s room wasn’t too far up the hallway. Noctis was having trouble staying upright at all, much less walking, and if they’d had to go more than a few yards, Angeal would have been tempted to just throw him over one shoulder and carry him there. But he managed to get them both into his own room without incident, and deposited Noctis on the spare bed. 

Noctis flopped down bonelessly and didn’t react when Angeal wrangled off his boots; for a second Angeal thought he’d gone straight to sleep. Then he pushed himself to a wobbly sitting position, dropped his head into his hands, and groaned. “Stars, this sucks.” 

“Being drunk?” Angeal asked.

Noctis grunted.

“I wouldn’t know,” Angeal admitted. “I got the SOLDIER treatments before I ever tried getting drunk.” 

“Wouldn’t recommend it,” Noctis muttered. “The whole Stars-damned room is spinning. I think I’m gonna puke.” 

“Do it in the bathroom,” Angeal said. 

Noctis raised both his middle fingers without otherwise letting go of his head. Angeal chuckled and sat down on the other bed to pull off his own boots, though he kept a close eye on Noctis. Thankfully, while Noctis still looked rather green, he seemed to steady a bit. When Angeal was reasonably sure Noctis was not, in fact, going to throw up, he went to the bathroom himself to pour a glass of water. 

He had to pry Noctis’s hand off his head to wrap around the glass, then Noctis stared at it for a full minute without seeming to quite realize what it was. “Drink,” Angeal urged. “It’s just water.” 

“Oh.” Noctis took a sip, then downed the rest of the glass in one long swig. Angeal refilled it for him, then sat back down on the other bed while Noctis drank the second glass and made his own, distinctly unsteady trip to the bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, he’d splashed water on his face and looked less like he was about to keel over. He still collapsed on the spare bed again, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Reno’s a jerk,” he muttered.

“What happened?” Angeal asked. 

“Tseng doesn’t like me talking to Rufus,” Noctis told the ceiling. “He wants dirt on me. Reno was trying to get it. I think he paid the bartender to spike my drinks. I didn’t order anything nearly that strong.” 

“Did you tell Reno anything?” Angeal couldn’t resist asking.

A wicked grin stretched across Noctis’s mouth. “More than he ever wanted to know about fishing for noble arapaima.”

Angeal chuckled. “I bet he loved that.” 

“‘s what he gets for trying to drunk interrogate me,” Noctis said. In a more serious tone, he added, “Sorry for getting politics all over your vacation.” 

“It’s fine,” Angeal said lightly. “We work for ShinRa - there’s no escaping company politics.” 

Noctis snorted. “Speaking of, what’s up with you and Cloud? He avoids you and you get weird whenever anyone mentions him.” Then he sat up so fast he nearly lurched off the bed, his eyes wide and his face a brilliant shade of red. “Sorry!” he yelped. “Sorry. That was rude, I shouldn’t’ve asked, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine,” Angeal repeated automatically, holding up his hands. 

“No, it’s not,” Noctis said. “I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry. It’s the alcohol talking. I’ll shut up now.” 

Angeal sighed. While it _was_ sort of rude for Noctis to ask so bluntly, it wasn’t as though Cloud - or Angeal himself, for that matter - made any attempt to hide the rift between them. Noctis had noticed, and Angeal would rather he hear the truth from Angeal himself, rather than second- or third-hand via the SOLDIER rumor mill. “It’s a fair question,” he admitted. “And since you’re probably going to make First soon, you should know what happened.” The words hurt, but he made himself add, “Before you have to work with me.” 

Noctis’s head came up, his grey eyes suddenly sharp behind the messy fall of his bangs. The full weight of his regard, despite the still-noticeable drunken sway, was a nearly physical pressure, and Angeal had to fight not to shrink down beneath it. Noctis said, “What do you mean?” 

“It’s… a long story,” Angeal admitted. He realized he was tugging at a loose thread on the bed’s comforter, made himself put his hands in his lap. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Noctis said. He sat up straight, tucking one foot under the other knee and watching Angeal patiently. 

“Cloud was…” Angeal took a deep breath, made himself say, “He was hurt because of me. Almost killed, and worse.” He still remembered the way Cloud had struck him down on the path through the mountains below the Nibelheim reactor, the way Cloud’s eyes had flickered from their usual vivid blue to slit-pupiled green, the mindless ferocity with which he’d attacked. How Jenova had nearly made Cloud into the monster he’d feared Sephiroth would become. 

All of the time-travel and Jenova stuff was still highly classified, but Angeal could explain the gist of the situation without those details. “I was injured,” he continued, “and fell ill because of it. Cloud… didn’t get the normal SOLDIER treatments. His augmentations are different than mine, and Hollander believed that because of that difference, Cloud - Cloud’s cells - could help cure me. But Cloud hates doctors. I thought… I thought it was just a child’s fear, so I forced him to…” He shook his head. “But I was wrong. He’s afraid of doctors because of what Hojo did to him years ago, to give him those augmentations in the first place. Because of me, Hojo was able to kidnap Cloud again and torture him for months on end. Not just Cloud, but Kunsel, too.” 

“Hojo? Isn’t that ShinRa’s ex-head scientist?” Noctis asked. His grey eyes narrowed. “Wait. Rumor says he died when one of his experiments broke loose. Was that _Cloud?!_ ” 

Angeal nodded. 

“Astrals,” Noctis muttered. 

“The others rescued him,” Angeal said. “I was too ill to help. But what Hojo did to him… I don’t blame him for hating me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Noctis said quietly. “I know what that feels like.” 

Startled, Angeal looked up at him, but Noctis’s head was lowered, his dark hair falling around his face like a shield. “How could _you_ know?” Angeal asked, and it came out sharp, the bitter shame of what he’d done like claws in his throat. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d hurt someone just to save yourself.” 

Noctis flicked him a glance, just a flash of grey behind the curtain of his hair. Then he shrugged out of his jacket, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and pulled it up over his shoulders. Alarmed - just how drunk _was_ he? - Angeal started to lunge for him— 

Only to freeze when Noctis twisted so Angeal could see his back. 

A thick, gnarled scar stretched across his lower back, starting a couple inches to the right of his spine and slicing all the way to the outside of his left hip. Without really meaning to, Angeal sank down to sit behind Noctis, his fingers hovering above the scar. “ _Odin_ ,” he swore. He’d seen Noctis rubbing at his lower back during training, but hadn’t imagined he was hiding anything like this. The wound had clearly bisected his spine - Noctis shouldn’t have been able to _walk_ , much less fight at the level of SOLDIER. 

Noctis gave him a few more seconds to look, then dropped his shirt back down to hide the scar once more, though he didn’t turn to face Angeal. “When I was little, a Marilith attacked our convoy. Nearly killed me. I was in and out of a coma for weeks, and the times I was awake I couldn’t even sit up.” He gave a little huff too bitter to be called a laugh. “Fucked up my magic, too, though we didn’t find that out until later. My dad couldn’t—” He broke off, took a deep breath. “He took me to the Oracle, in Tenebrae, to see if she could do anything. While we were there, I made friends with her daughter Lunafreya. But all of us there at once… It was too much of a temptation for the Niffs. They attacked. Killed the Oracle. My dad tried to get Luna out with us, but she…” 

Noctis’s shoulders bowed; the one hand Angeal could see curled into a fist. “She thought she would just slow us down, get me captured too, so she stayed behind. She and her brother were Niff prisoners for the rest of their lives. Luna said she never blamed me, but her brother...” He glanced over his shoulder at Angeal, his mouth twisted into a dark, humorless smile. “So, yeah. I do know how you feel.” 

“But you were a _child_ ,” Angeal protested. “It’s not the same!” 

“Isn’t it?” Noctis asked softly. “Luna and Ravus still grew up in captivity. Their mom still _died_. All because I got hurt and needed their help.” He shuddered, curling in on himself again. “My life isn’t worth any more than theirs, but I’m the only one still alive.”

Angeal winced. The others might hate him for what he’d done, but at least Cloud and Kunsel had both survived Hojo’s twisted experimentation. Angeal couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if either of them had died. Cautiously, he rested a hand on Noctis’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Noctis didn’t say anything. Angeal hesitated, then, praying Noctis wouldn’t hear the desperation in his voice, made himself ask, “How did you move on?” 

More silence, stretching like a funeral dirge between them, an answer in and of itself. Angeal bowed his head, the guilt and shame in his chest burning. 

“You must push forward,” Noctis said eventually. “Accept the consequences, and don’t look back. My dad told me that. He… was better at it than I am.” 

Even more cautiously, Angeal moved his hand to Noctis’s other shoulder, tugging him into a careful hug. He couldn’t help but remember the way Cloud had looked, months ago in Nibelheim when he’d given Angeal the cure for degeneration despite everything Angeal had done. Noctis looked like that, too: like someone who’d lost far too much for anyone to bear, who’d been fighting alone for a long, long time. Offering Cloud the simple comfort of a hug, or even a touch, had been out of the question, but Angeal could at least do this for Noctis. 

Surprise flashed across Noctis’s face as Angeal pulled him close, but then he curled up like a cat against Angeal’s side and huffed a laugh into the fabric of his shirt. “Guess I’m a depressed drunk. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Angeal said. “And… thank you for telling me.” 

“Mm.” 

Neither of them said anything after that. Thoughts buzzed and whirled in Angeal’s head; he felt as lightheaded as if he was the one who’d drunk too much. _Accept the consequences, and don’t look back_ , Noctis had said. Put like that, it sounded so simple. Angeal was all too aware that he’d been wallowing in the past, stewing in his own guilt and shame. But it was one thing to _say_ he’d accepted what he’d done and moved on, like he’d been telling himself ever since he came back to ShinRa cured of degradation, with nothing more than premature white streaks in his hair to show that anything had happened to him at all. It was another thing entirely to _believe_ it. 

Even as most of his mind turned that over, another part of him was acutely aware that Noctis had just told Angeal far more about himself than he’d ever told anyone else. The other Firsts would have _kittens_ if they heard about any of it - yet some part of Angeal wanted, selfishly, to keep it all to himself. Noctis had chosen to tell _Angeal_ about his past. Not Genesis, not Cloud, not any of the others, but Angeal. And he’d done it despite Angeal admitting to betraying his friends and his honor. 

It wasn’t as though Noctis had told him anything that could be a danger to ShinRa or the others. Angeal had never heard of a Marilith, or an oracle in a place called Tenebrae, or Niffs, but that meant very little. As much as ShinRa liked to believe it had conquered the world, in reality its reach extended into only a small fraction of the known settled areas. Gaia was full of places like the jungle north of Gongaga, or the wilds of Cosmo Canyon, or the desert around Fort Condor, which hid countless warring tribes and undiscovered cities. The Goblin Islands - the eastern archipelago which Noctis had said he was from - were almost entirely unexplored by ShinRa, especially the northernmost reaches where their namesake caused havoc for even the most prepared visitors. Growing up in Banora, directly south of the Goblin Islands, Angeal had heard about deadlier monsters that lurked there. Nothing more substantial than children’s stories whispered in the dark, but more than enough to do what Noctis had described.

No, Noctis hadn’t told Angeal anything that might help solve his mysteries, except to further disprove the “lost Wutai prince” theory. He’d spoken in confidence; it would be neither right nor fair for Angeal to betray that. And if that meant Angeal got this, got a tentative friend who understood the pain and shame he felt, well… 

He wouldn’t mind that at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Crown Prince, Noctis probably got some training in how to not spill state secrets while drunk. On the other hand, he's only been drunk a few times, and he trusts Angeal a lot more than he trusts Reno.


	27. Family Resemblance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth tries something new, and a Turk makes a move.

“The Gongaga reactor will be simple enough,” Kunsel said, running a finger down the list they’d compiled. “After what happened to the Corel reactor, convincing the Maintenance Department to go over the others with a fine-tooth comb will be easy.” 

He sat to Cloud’s right at a little table outside a cafe in Battle Station, with Genesis on Cloud’s other side. A TV display overhead showed the current contender losing badly against a basilisk, but they’d stopped paying attention an hour ago when Kunsel had asked Cloud what other future disasters like the Corel massacre they ought to prevent. He and Genesis were almost more into the project than Cloud was: Genesis had produced a notebook and they’d jotted down a list that they were now working through. Cloud didn’t mind; after another fun but exhausting day exploring the attractions of the Gold Saucer, it was nice to just sit here with his friends.

“What’s this rocket one?” Genesis asked. “A launch failure?” 

Cloud nodded. “One of Cid’s assistants - Cid Highwind, the head engineer of the rocket program - found a fault with an oxygen tank. The assistant was still in the engine fixing it when the launch was supposed to happen, and Cid aborted the launch so he wouldn’t kill her. But it damaged the rocket, and ShinRa shut down the program rather than try again.” 

“So we’d have to figure out how to let them know that the oxygen tank is bad,” Kunsel mused. 

“I’ll handle this one,” Genesis said. “A tour by the Hero of Wutai with a detailed walk-through of the engine.” 

“You’d do that?” Cloud asked, startled.

Genesis flashed him a bright grin. “Of course I will. I’m a hero, aren’t I? That extends to off the battlefield, too.” 

“You just can’t resist situations where people will be ooh’ing and ahh’ing over you,” Kunsel teased. 

As they continued to bicker over Cloud’s head, Cloud leaned forward to review their list again. The Gongaga reactor, the rocket launch, Nanaki being kidnapped. He’d marked the fact that the Midgar plates were capable of being dropped, although with Barret safe with his family in Corel, it was unlikely that circumstances would drive ShinRa to drop the Sector Seven plate as it had in Cloud’s timeline. And without Hojo around, Nanaki was almost certainly safe. 

Gaia, was that really all that was left? The Gongaga reactor and the rocket launch? Cloud racked his brain, running through the events of his own timeline, or at least what he directly remembered after coming back to himself in a Midgar train station. Plate drop, Zolom, Junon, Cosmo Canyon, Nibelheim, the Temple of the Ancients, the long trek north through the Forgotten City to the Northern Crater. The crater itself, days spent wandering the frozen surface of its ridges, even longer spent diving through its tunnels until they’d finally found the crystal cave in its center. Everything that had happened there…

_ Hojo saying, I have been waiting for the Reunion to start. Sephiroth is not just content to diffuse his will into the Lifestream.  _

_ Cloud’s own voice, speaking words he didn’t fully understand: This is where the Reunion is happening. Where everything begins and ends. _

_ I wasn’t  _ pursuing _Sephiroth. I was being_ summoned _by Sephiroth._

_ Sephiroth himself, face peaceful and body nearly whole inside his crystal cocoon. _

_ So we finally meet again… _

Cloud shook his head, struggling to banish the images, the voices. The Northern Crater wasn’t usually this clear in his mind, the memories blurred and twisted by Sephiroth’s - Jenova’s - control tightening over Cloud’s mind. Ice-cold fingers, a distant echo of the crater’s frozen winds, seemed to wrap around the back of Cloud’s neck, and he shivered. 

“Cloud?” 

Genesis. Cloud clung to his voice, let himself lean closer to Genesis. The man ran hot, more noticeable now that he wore casual slacks and a short-sleeved shirt instead of his heat-dampening leather jacket, and the warmth brought Cloud back to the Gold Saucer. 

“I’m fine,” Cloud muttered. “Just…”

“Bad memories,” Kunsel finished for him. 

Cloud nodded. Kunsel bumped his knee against Cloud’s, and Genesis rested an arm on Cloud’s back, their touch further grounding Cloud in the here and now, away from those unpleasantly clear memories of the Northern Crater. Cloud didn’t say anything else, and after a minute or two, Genesis and Kunsel resumed their discussion about how to set up Genesis’s surprise rocket tour.

Cloud let them, refocusing instead on the short list in front of him of disasters to avert. It seemed simple, just these last two things. But then, so much of the tragedy in his timeline had been caused by Hojo and Sephiroth, and in this timeline, Hojo was dead and Sephiroth was sane. It felt too easy, and yet… A memory of mako in his lungs, a flash of the cage in Hojo’s lab. It hadn’t been easy, not really. But it had been worth it. 

“Hah, look!” Genesis elbowed Cloud in the side, interrupting his musing. “I can’t believe the puppy actually talked him into riding that monstrosity.” 

Distracted, Cloud hadn’t sensed Sephiroth’s approach, though now that Genesis had alerted him, he spotted the general right away. Sephiroth was walking toward their table with Angeal and Zack, who was carrying a stuffed moogle doll the size of a small child - one of the prizes from the Speed Station’s coaster. All three of them were dressed in civilian clothes and distinctly windblown; Sephiroth had even pulled his long hair back into a high ponytail, presumably to avoid it becoming a hazard on the coaster’s tight twists and loops. Zack was talking animatedly, his voice lost to the roar of the Battle Station’s crowds, and both Sephiroth and Angeal were leaning in slightly to listen. 

They passed under a brightly-colored billboard, lights flashing along Sephiroth’s pale hair and white jacket in a crystalline kaleidoscope of color. Maybe it was because Cloud had spent the last hour thinking about his own timeline, about the lives Hojo had ruined, the hurts he’d caused and the catastrophes large and small he’d left in his wake, but for a breathtaking moment, Cloud wasn’t in the Gold Saucer at all. He was in a small crystal cave deep in the heart of a mountain, while a woman with sad eyes and long hair pulled into a high ponytail told them her story. The crystal walls and the rushing waterfall had fractured the dim sunlight into a kaleidoscope dancing over her hair, over the white of her lab coat. She’d leaned toward Vincent, all her attention on him as her broken voice whispered  _Sephiroth…_

“Cloud?” 

For the second time in as many minutes, Cloud jerked back to the present. Sephiroth and the others had reached their table, and Sephiroth was watching Cloud with an odd expression on his face. Cloud glared at him, which utterly failed to deter him; Sephiroth said mildly, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

It came out too sharp, and Sephiroth’s green eyes narrowed. The others were watching now, too, clearly wary of a confrontation; even Zack had fallen silent. Sephiroth said again, more pointedly, “ _Cloud._ ” 

Kunsel’s leg pressed against Cloud’s from knee to hip, a reassuring presence. Cloud sighed, hunching his shoulders and staring firmly at the table. He did _not_ want to talk about this, not here, right after dredging up all those awful memories. But he knew all too well that Sephiroth wouldn’t let it go. “You just… looked like your mom.” 

With Sephiroth standing so close, Cloud felt the irritation that flashed through him. “I thought we established that Jenova is _not_ —”

“Not her,” Cloud interrupted, and made himself look up at him. “Lucrecia.” 

Sephiroth went very still. Beside him, Zack’s mouth dropped open, and Genesis made a thoughtful sound under his breath. His movements uncharacteristically jerky, Sephiroth groped for a chair and sat down hard, elbows on the table and gaze fixed on Cloud’s face. His eyes were wide, his slit pupils almost round, and for a moment Cloud remembered what Noctis had said in a slums alley a few days ago about how his eyes reacted to something he wanted. Sephiroth said quietly, “You knew her?” 

“I met her once,” Cloud admitted. He wanted to look away, but something in Sephiroth’s gaze held him: a fierce longing, an almost childlike hope. Then something occurred to him and he frowned. “Didn’t Vincent take you to see her?” 

“Valentine?” Sephiroth shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since we left Nibelheim.” 

Cloud dropped his head into his hands. “Figures,” he grumbled under his breath, though he knew all the other Firsts could hear him perfectly well.

“He mentioned her name,” Sephiroth added, “when we were on our way to retrieve you. But that was all.”

“Hojo’s notes didn’t say anything?” Kunsel asked. “If she’s your mother, wouldn’t…” He trailed off, presumably because Sephiroth was glaring at him, though Cloud didn’t look up to confirm. 

“Hojo’s notes made no mention of my parentage,” Sephiroth said, his voice clipped and bitter, “except for a handful of references to a ‘host’ or ‘surrogate’. As far as he was concerned, Jenova was the only ‘parent’ of mine which mattered.” 

“Vincent didn’t tell you _anything_ about Lucrecia _?_ ” Cloud asked the table beneath him.

“No,” Sephiroth said. “He spoke of her as if…” He stopped, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Is… is she still alive?” 

“Sort of,” Cloud admitted, and tried not to feel the rush of hope and longing that surged over his connection with Sephiroth. 

“‘Sort of’?” Genesis broke in, sounding exasperated. 

Cloud lifted his head to scowl at him. “It’s complicated.” He looked back at Sephiroth. He really, _really_ didn’t want to do this, but if Vincent wasn’t going to - and it had been long enough by now that if Vincent _was_ going to, he would have already - then it would have to be Cloud. “I can show you where she is sometime. If you want.” 

“I,” Sephiroth said, then stopped again. He seemed in shock. 

Zack, standing beside Sephiroth, shifted his big stuffed moogle to his other arm, then rested his free hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder. Sephiroth didn’t react to the touch, still frozen in place; it was Genesis who finally leaned across the table to jab him in the other shoulder. “Say yes,” he told Sephiroth firmly. “It’ll be good for you.” 

“...Perhaps,” Sephiroth said. He met Cloud’s eyes, then looked away. “We can talk about it later.” 

That was fine by Cloud, because _later_ meant at worst, _not right here in the middle of the Gold Saucer with the other Firsts watching_ , and at best, _never_. “Sure.” 

Genesis rolled his eyes at them, drawing breath as if to tell them both off. Cloud felt the movement under the table as Kunsel hooked a foot around Cloud’s legs to kick Genesis in the ankle. Out loud, Kunsel said, “So where’s Noctis? I thought he was with you guys today.” 

“He got called on a mission to the south,” Angeal said. “He left this morning.” 

“It sucks,” Zack added. “But we knew the Seconds would be picking up our slack while we’re here, just like we’ll be picking up theirs for the next few weekends. At least we got to hang out with him yesterday!” 

“Is that what Reno wanted with him last night?” Kunsel asked. 

Something flickered across Angeal’s face, gone too quickly for Cloud to register. Before Cloud could ask him about it, Genesis said, “Most likely. Turks don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘vacation’.” 

“Speaking of vacations,” Sephiroth cut in, his voice and expression back to their usual blandness, “our reservation is for fifteen minutes from now. We should go.” 

“Reservation?” Genesis asked. 

Zack bounced excitedly. “Seph got us a reservation at Club Dio!” 

“Club _Dio_?” Kunsel repeated. “Isn’t that—”

“The most elite restaurant on the West Continent,” Genesis finished for him, sounding impressed. “It fills up months in advance. You surprise me, Sephiroth. I didn’t expect you to have _taste_.” 

“You don’t expect me to have many things,” Sephiroth answered. “I enjoy proving you wrong.” 

“ _My friend, your desire_

_Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess._ " 

“Loveless, Act III,” Sephiroth said, and stood up from the table. “Come. I had to pull quite a few strings to get that reservation. It would be a shame to be late.” 

“Indeed,” Genesis said. He also climbed to his feet, tugging Cloud up with him. “Come on, Cloud. We’ll figure out the rest of that list later.” 

“So what’s with the moogle?” Kunsel asked Zack as the six of them headed for Battle Station’s exit. 

“It’s a gift for my girlfriend!” Zack said proudly, and held it out so they could see. “Sephiroth’s _uncanny_ on that coaster - I don’t think he missed a single shot!” 

“Of course he didn’t,” Genesis grumbled, but it was good-natured. 

Zack’s description of their trips - multiple of them, apparently, to get enough prize points to buy the moogle - on the coaster occupied the entirety of the walk from Battle Station to the plaza off Terminal Floor where Club Dio was located. A chipper hostess met them at the door and led them through a dark, neon-lit room filled with bustling tables. Loud, thumping music blared over the chatter of dozens of the Saucer’s wealthiest visitors, giving Cloud an instant headache. Thankfully, the hostess took them to a private room at the back of the restaurant, where the music was much quieter. The room’s table was set for six, with elegant dishes and what might have been solid gold silverware - but a seventh person waited for them. 

“Yo,” Reno said, tossing a wave at them from where he leaned against the wall.

“Reno?” Cloud said.

“What are you doing here?” Genesis demanded. His blue eyes narrowed and he glared at Sephiroth. “Wait—”

“Reno asked for a few minutes of our time,” Sephiroth said coolly. “I agreed to hear him out. This—” with a motion of one hand at the private room— “seemed the best opportunity to do so.” 

“An’ I appreciate it,” Reno broke in. “Got a lot to talk with you kids about.”

“Like?” Cloud said. 

“Noctis Lucis Caelum,” Reno said. “You’ve been trying to figure him out, right? Who he really is, where he’s from, what he wants.”

“We have,” Sephiroth said. His voice and expression gave nothing away. 

“And you know about the whole, uh.” Reno leaned in conspiratorially, his voice pitched low. “ _Situation_ , with the boss and Lazard.” 

Kunsel glanced at Cloud; peripherally Cloud was aware of Genesis and Angeal likewise trading a look. “Yes,” Cloud said warily.

“Great.” Reno grinned, his trademark dangerous, mischievous flash of teeth. “Wanna team up?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth looks basically nothing like Hojo, while Lucrecia in post-OG appearances looks quite a lot like her son. I like the idea that, if not for his Jenova-given hair and eye colors, he'd look just like his mother.


	28. Teaming Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno and the Firsts trade information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I replayed the original FFVII recently, I noticed something interesting with the Turks: whenever Tseng isn't present (which happens a lot), Reno acts as the de facto leader of the other Turks. He also demonstrates an interesting set of principles, if they can be called that, during Yuffie's Wutai side quest, when he allows the Turks to partner with Cloud's party because the Turks are "off duty". _Advent Children_ portrayed him mostly as comic relief, but I like the idea that he uses that persona as a front to hide an intellect at least as ruthless as Tseng's.

“Team up?” Genesis said, his voice and his crossed-arm posture radiating skepticism. “Why in the world would we team up with a _Turk?_ ” 

“And why would _you_ want to team up with _us?_ ” Kunsel added. “A couple weeks ago you were warning us to back off.” 

Reno shrugged. “Things change, yo.”

Sephiroth tilted his head, green eyes fixed on Reno. “Things like Caelum becoming friendly with Rufus ShinRa.” 

“Yep.” Reno pushed away from the wall and sauntered a few steps closer, though he kept the big dinner table between himself and the Firsts, and his hands in his pockets. “You guys have been digging into Caelum. We’ve been digging into Caelum. Figure we can get further together, yeah?” 

Genesis scowled. “Tseng isn’t the kind of guy to just share information like that.”

“Oh, Tseng doesn’t know I’m here,” Reno said, with an airy wave of one hand. Then he paused, shrugged, and smirked again. “Okay, this is Tseng we’re talking about, he probably _does_ know I’m here. But he didn’t send me.” 

“We’re to believe you’re here on your own, out of the goodness of your heart,” Sephiroth said. His voice, like his expression, was utterly empty, not giving any hint of what he thought about Reno’s offer.

Reno just laughed. “I’m a Turk. I don’t have a heart,” he said. “I’m here ‘cause I don’t like how much clout Caelum’s got with the boss.” He caught Cloud’s eye, then Kunsel’s. “Heard you two were there the other day, in the infirmary.” 

Cloud nodded reluctantly. 

“It’s not a bad thing, though, right?” Zack asked. “Kunsel said Noct talked the Vice President out of destroying a whole village. That’s good!” 

“Is it?” Reno said. “Nobody knows who this guy is, where he came from, or what he wants. But he has the ear of the second most powerful man in the world.” He smirked at Sephiroth. “No offense.” 

The corner of Sephiroth’s mouth curled up, very slightly. He had gone still and forbidding in the way Cloud hated, the way that looked unpleasantly like the Sephiroth from Cloud’s memories, and the smile didn’t touch his eyes at all. Yet for once Cloud found that expression… almost comforting, in a strange way. Maybe because this time, it wasn’t directed at him. 

If Reno felt threatened at all, though, he didn’t show it. He continued, “Turks don’t like wildcards. And Caelum’s even wilder than Strife here.” 

“Wild?” Genesis asked pointedly. “Or simply unwilling to toe the Turk party line?”

“Ain’t that the same thing?” Reno drawled, and if his tone was flippant the hard gleam in his eye was anything but. “Either way, he talked the boss into weakening ShinRa’s position.”

“Into _not wiping out an innocent village_ ,” Cloud hissed. 

Reno shrugged, like the difference didn’t matter. “Tseng gets ... _itchy_ when people weaken ShinRa’s position, y’know?”

“Just how much clout does Noctis have?” Genesis asked. “Are you really saying Rufus gave up a convenient scapegoat for the destruction of an entire reactor based on nothing more than Noctis’s influence?” 

“Yeah,” Reno said. “And not just that, he did it over Tseng’s objections.” 

“Has Rufus truly never listened to anyone other than Tseng before?” Sephiroth asked mildly. 

“You laugh,” Reno said, “but it’s true. They’ve known each other forever. The boss doesn’t trust anyone else. Except,” he added pointedly, “Caelum, now.” 

“Are there other matters in which Rufus has trusted Caelum over Tseng?” Sephiroth asked. 

Reno hesitated, eyes darting from side to side before he leaned forward slightly. Cloud knew him well enough to know it was mostly for show; Reno would’ve swept the room for bugs and other spies long before the Firsts arrived. Still, the gesture was enough to draw the other Firsts closer to Reno, crowding close around the table. Only Cloud and Sephiroth held back, and Cloud saw the gleam in Reno’s eye as he noticed. _Good_ , Cloud thought. Reno needed to know they didn’t trust him, even if they were willing to listen to him. 

Pitching his voice low enough that Cloud wouldn’t have been able to make out the words if not for his mako-enhanced hearing, Reno said, “You know the president ain’t exactly been firing on all cylinders lately, yeah?” He waited for their nods, then continued, “Thing is… even if he hadn’t started losing it a few months ago, the boss had a plan to take over this year.”

Kunsel actually gasped out loud. “We were right,” he said. “That’s what he meant. Back in the infirmary, Rufus said something about AVALANCHE losing a shot at his father.” He stared at Reno in horror. “Rufus really _was_ working with AVALANCHE to assassinate his father.” 

Reno nodded, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“What?!” Zack demanded. “Rufus was seriously going to—But it’s his _dad!_ ” He looked to Kunsel, then Angeal, then Cloud as if expecting them to do something about it. “He seriously wanted to kill his own father?!” 

Cloud nodded grimly. He still remembered his first meeting with Rufus, nearly a decade ago in his own timeline. Cloud had been shaken by the president’s murder at the hands of a monster Cloud had thought five years dead, and barely holding his shattered mind together with his fingertips, but he’d still noticed how _gleeful_ Rufus had been, standing atop ShinRa Tower as he declared himself the new President. “He’s hated his father pretty much his whole life, as far as I know.” 

“I can hardly blame him,” Genesis admitted. “ _My soul, corrupted by vengeance_

_Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey_

_In my own salvation_

_And your eternal slumber._ ” 

“Loveless, Act Four,” Sephiroth said automatically. To Reno, he added, “Are you saying Caelum talked Rufus out of assassinating the president?” 

“Yep,” Reno said, though there was an edge to his easygoing drawl that gave away his true feelings about the situation. “The boss and Tseng have been planning his ascension to company president since he was fifteen. But in walks Caelum—” Reno made a walking gesture in the air with two fingers— “who sweet-talks the boss over coffee and donuts and an unsanctioned jaunt to the slums, and suddenly the whole thing’s off. Not only that, but Caelum’s also talked him down from killing Lazard.” 

Cloud’s eyebrows shot up, and Kunsel whistled low. Sephiroth’s expression didn’t change, but Cloud sensed the surprise that flashed through him. 

“I know, right?” Reno said. 

“Odd,” Genesis muttered. “If I didn’t know he was successfully completing monster-killing missions, I’d almost guess he was some kind of pacifist.” 

“Maybe,” Reno said. “He did want to save those AVALANCHE terrorists in the reactor. Damn near got himself killed trying, from the sound of it.” 

“Rufus wouldn’t listen to a stranger over Tseng for the sake of some pacifist ideal, though,” Cloud spoke up. “Rufus doesn’t do anything if it doesn’t benefit him in some way.” 

It was more than he should have said, and he realized it immediately when Reno’s gaze fixed sharply on him for a moment. Then the mask slipped back into place and Reno flashed a smile. “You’re right about that, yo.” 

“So what’s Rufus getting from Caelum?” Genesis asked. 

“More importantly,” Sephiroth added, “what is Caelum getting from Rufus?” 

“See, that’s what _I_ wanna know,” Reno said. “What’s Caelum after? I’m pretty sure he ain’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart.” 

Reluctantly, Cloud said, “He told me, back when we first recruited him, that his family was gone, and he couldn’t get back to them.” 

“But that’s because his home was destroyed, right?” Zack said. “He said the town he’s from was destroyed by monsters.” 

Cloud shook his head. “He said he didn’t think they were dead, and that he was looking for them. It’s why he agreed to join SOLDIER - so he had a better chance of finding them.” 

“Family, huh?” Reno said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We haven’t found any records of his family. His official SOLDIER application says he’s from an island to the east, which is exactly as useful as it sounds. And we’ve had eyes on him on pretty much every mission he’s been on. He hasn’t done anything that looks like searching for someone.” 

“Which missions _didn’t_ you have eyes on?” Genesis asked.

“The one with Scarlet’s robots that wasn’t supposed to be assigned to him,” Reno answered.

“Did you ever figure out who assigned it to him?” Zack asked. He crossed his arms over the moogle doll in a pout. “I still can’t believe some jerk used _my_ code to try to get him killed.” 

“Actually,” Reno said, “Rude _did_ figure it out.”

“And you didn’t tell us?” Sephiroth said. There was the slightest edge to his tone, a suggestion of _you didn’t tell_ me _who tried to assassinate one of my SOLDIERs?_

Reno held up both hands. “It was only a couple days ago, man. Easy.” 

“So who was it?” Zack demanded. 

“Well, that’s the weird part,” Reno said. “Rude did some auditing of the access logs, and best he can tell, it was _Caelum himself._ ” 

“What?” Kunsel burst out. “That doesn’t make any sense! Why would Caelum take a mission two ranks above him?” 

A flicker of thought, surprise-and-realization, darted across the surface of Cloud’s thoughts, and he looked up to see Sephiroth’s eyes narrowing. “He may have been meeting someone,” he said, then met Cloud’s gaze. “You recall what we saw?” 

Cloud nodded, then, when the others looked at him expectantly, said, “There were signs that other people had been there. Other weapon marks.” 

“A squadron’s worth,” Sephiroth added. “Caelum only carried his standard-issue broadsword, so the marks couldn’t have been from him.” Then it was his turn to look sharply at Cloud. 

Cloud scowled back. With Reno in the room, he couldn’t snap at Sephiroth to _stay out of my head, damn it_ , but he was pretty sure the man got the gist anyway. 

“Cloud,” Sephiroth prompted. “What else did you see?” 

“I… I’m not sure,” Cloud admitted. “Right as we left, there was someone… I _thought_ there was someone. But they vanished before I could get a good look.” 

“And you didn’t tell us?” Genesis demanded, sounding exasperated. 

“I wasn’t sure!” Cloud snapped. His fists clenched, and he felt Kunsel’s hand on his arm. “It wasn’t - I wasn’t even sure if I actually saw it.” 

“What did it look like?” Reno cut in, ignoring the indrawn breath that meant Genesis was going to keep arguing. “This person you saw.” 

Cloud waved a hand vaguely. “I don’t…” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall that moment in the wastes. “Long hair, dark. Pale skin. Wearing, I don’t know. Robes, maybe. Something long and dark.” When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see the consideration on Reno’s face. “What?” 

“Check this out,” Reno said. He pulled his PHS from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, flipped it open, and tapped a few buttons before tossing it across the table. 

Sephiroth caught it and held it up, letting the others crowd around him to look. On the screen was a photo of a grassy area, seemingly taken with a telephoto lens. Part of an elfadunk was visible in the distance at the edge of the photo: tusks, trunk, and one gleaming golden eye. But most of the frame was taken up by a woman. She wore a long black coat or dress with a broad white scarf wound around her upper arms, and her long black hair spilled over her shoulders like a river. She was turned partially away, looking at the camera from over one shoulder, though her eyes were closed. 

“Do you recognize her?” Reno asked Cloud. 

Cloud looked again at the photo, then shrugged. “Could’ve been who I saw in the wastes. I didn’t get a good enough look to be sure.” 

“Who is she?” Zack asked. 

“No idea,” Reno said. “Rude was monitoring Caelum on a mission a few weeks back, out in the grasslands. He’d been taking pictures as usual, and when he got back and developed them, this turned up. She’s only in the one picture, and he swears she wasn’t there when he took it.”

“It’s not as though there are many places to hide in the grasslands,” Genesis said. “Where could she have come from?” 

“Good question, yo,” Reno agreed. “We thought maybe something went wrong when Rude developed the pictures - some kind of double exposure or something.” He nodded toward Cloud. “But if you saw her on another one of Caelum’s missions - one he specifically gave himself and apparently met up with a bunch of people on - then maybe she’s the one he’s working with to find this missing family of his.” 

“Hey, what’s that behind her?” Kunsel asked. He leaned past Cloud to point at a flicker of blue just visible behind the woman’s shoulder, on the other side of her body from the elfadunk.

“Caelum, probably,” Reno said. “She’s right in front of him.” 

Sephiroth obligingly zoomed in, enough that they could see that the blue shape almost looked like part of an outstretched leg and hip. “A Haste effect, perhaps?” He looked up at Reno. 

“Noct doesn’t have a Haste materia, though,” Zack said. 

“That we know of,” Genesis said thoughtfully. “I’m still not convinced he isn’t hiding some high-level materia.” 

“I heard he’s caused a ruckus in materia lessons,” Reno said. “Anything worth mentioning?” 

“His use of materia is entirely bizarre,” Genesis said. “He holds it, and an effect occurs, but he’s not warming up the materia. It’s as though he’s _casting_ it without _using_ it, somehow.” 

“But that ain’t possible,” Reno protested.

“That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time!” Genesis pronounced dramatically. 

“...Actually, I may know the answer to that,” Angeal spoke up. He’d been so quiet Cloud had almost forgotten he was there, and even now, he looked reluctant to speak. But he straightened his shoulders under their combined scrutiny and continued, “Noctis told me he sustained an injury as a child that affected his ability to use materia. It’s likely any strangeness is the result of that.”

“How could an injury affect his ability to use materia, though?” Genesis said, frowning. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“What makes anyone better or worse at using materia?” Angeal said with a shrug. “He’d never seen healing magic until that same mission with the robots, so he probably never got a chance to practice as a child.” 

“He said in materia class that he’d never worked with materia at all before,” Cloud added. 

“It still doesn’t make any sense,” Genesis grumbled. Then his head snapped up and he whirled to point at Cloud. “Remember the summons lesson?” 

“...Yeah?” Then Cloud got it. “When he did… whatever that was, with the Ramuh summon. He was acting like he was hurt.” 

“His back?” Angeal asked. 

Cloud nodded, remembering the way Noctis had hunched over, the hand he’d pressed to the small of his back. 

“That lines up with what he told me,” Angeal admitted.

“Wait, when the hell did he tell you all this?” Genesis demanded. 

“Last night,” Angeal admitted. “He was locked out of his room, so I let him stay in mine.” 

“Oh, whoops,” Reno said, and rubbed the back of his neck, doing a poor job of looking abashed. 

Angeal frowned at him. “ _You_ locked Noctis out of his room?” 

“Not on purpose,” Reno said. “I searched his room while he was hanging out with you all yesterday, but I had to reset the lock code to get in. I figured he’d just think his key was broken and go to the front desk to get it fixed.” 

Angeal rolled his eyes. “Not when you _also_ got him so drunk he could hardly stand up.”

Reno shrugged, entirely unrepentant. “He’s a SOLDIER. You guys don’t get drunk easy.” 

“Well? Did you find anything?” Zack asked Reno, with altogether too much curiosity considering Reno had _broken into Noctis’s room._

“Nothing,” Reno said, and shook his head. “Just his duffel, a few clothes, the standard SOLDIER travel kit. I didn’t even see his sword in there.” 

“He didn’t have it when I found him in the reactor,” Cloud said. “Probably lost it in the explosion.” 

“Too bad,” Reno said. “The boss was pretty proud of it.” 

“He can afford another one,” Sephiroth said dryly. 

Talking about the reactor reminded Cloud of one other thing, something he hadn’t told even the other Firsts during the midnight meeting a couple nights ago. The vision he’d had when he’d first grabbed Noctis in the reactor: the furious booming voice, the cold blue eye, the dragon’s head. _Reflection_ , the voice had said. Noctis had mentioned ‘reflection’ as well, weeks ago in the pub when they’d been celebrating his promotion. Had said it was why he slept so much, and in fact, according to the Gold Saucer’s doctor, Noctis had just been sleeping in the reactor. It had to be related, but… how? 

He felt Sephiroth’s eyes on him again, but this time kept his mouth shut. Whatever it was he’d seen in the reactor, whatever that vision had been, Cloud didn’t want to bring it up in front of Reno. Or in front of Sephiroth, for that matter. He knew just how crazy that vision sounded, and Cloud had fought too hard for his sanity to put up with Sephiroth questioning it. 

“This still isn’t getting us anywhere,” Zack complained, breaking into Cloud’s musing. “The only new information we have is that Noct was hurt when he was a kid and hadn’t ever used materia before, and there’s a weird lady who turns up on his missions sometimes.” 

“And that Caelum has, at least once, gone to great lengths to encounter her,” Sephiroth pointed out. His gaze lingered on Cloud for a moment longer, then he deliberately looked away, letting it go.

Reno nodded. “Sounds like that lady’s more important than we thought. Me ‘n Rude’ll see if we can figure out who she is and how she’s popping up like that.” 

“We’ll continue to try to get him to open up,” Sephiroth added. He inclined his head toward Angeal. “Caelum seems willing to talk under some circumstances, so it may simply be a matter of ensuring he feels comfortable doing so.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Reno agreed. He sauntered around the table toward the door, but paused before opening it. “Look,” he said, with a serious note in his voice that he didn’t normally let show. “I know there ain’t a lot of love lost between the Turks and SOLDIER. But… we want to see the boss become president, like he’s supposed to. Tseng ain’t happy about Caelum throwing a wrench in his plans, but…” 

He hesitated, visibly debating with himself in a way he wasn’t usually so blatant about. Finally he continued, “You wanted to know what the boss is getting from Caelum? Well, just between us... Caelum’s plan has a better chance of succeeding.”

Cloud felt his eyebrows jump to his hairline. For Reno to admit that, it had to mean Rufus’s original plan to start a war had been shakier than Kunsel had thought. From the way Kunsel stiffened beside him, he’d realized it, too. 

Reno’s eyes flicked to them, then away; he’d seen their reaction. But all he said was, “If you guys can keep Lazard from making a move before the boss and Caelum get their chance… I’d appreciate it.” 

All of the Firsts turned to Sephiroth, but he’d gone still and impassive again, his green eyes unreadable. He said, “I will not do anything which puts my SOLDIERs - or my director - in danger.” 

A smirk curled Reno’s mouth. “I hear ya,” he murmured, and slipped out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it turns out I can't resist Noctis+Rufus shenanigans, I added two short stories depicting their adventures: [A Lesson in Diplomacy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552050), and [A Lesson in Sociology](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552260). Both of them take place prior to this point in the fic, but are varying degrees of spoilery for things up to this point in the fic. Enjoy!


	29. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moments of peace, quiet, and camaraderie after the chaos of Corel and the Gold Saucer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the author's notes to promise chapters on alternating weekends, then immediately fell off the face of the earth. >.< Whoops! Hopefully I'll be able to get back on schedule again.

“Aeris!” a young voice shouted through the quiet of the abandoned part of Sector Five. “Hey, Aeris!” 

Two small children darted around a curve of the path to crash into Aeris’s knees, hugging her with friendly enthusiasm. Aeris crouched down to embrace them in turn. “Jenny,” she said with a smile. “Kip. Shouldn’t you two be home already?” 

“We’re going home now!” Kip, the older of the pair, said defensively. “We were at the church an’ didn’t see it getting dark.” 

“At the church, huh?” Aeris asked. “Were you being nice to the flowers?” 

“Uh-huh,” Jenny said. “We gave them all water like you said.” 

“The White Lady was there again, too,” Kip added. “Hey! I bet if you hurry, you’ll see her, too.” 

“Oh?” Aeris said. _That_ was interesting. The children had seen this mysterious White Lady twice before, but only briefly and at a distance. Both times, she’d been gone long before Aeris came to check on the flowers. “Did you talk to her?” 

Jenny pouted. “Nuh-uh. We tried, but she doesn’t talk.” 

“I think there’s something wrong with her,” Kip said with a six-year-old’s brutal honesty. “She can’t hear us at all.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We even _shouted_ , but she didn’t even jump.” 

Aeris nodded. “I see.” It was the same as the other times: the White Lady didn’t seem to want to interact with the children. Aeris had her suspicions why, and if Kip was right, maybe she’d get to confirm them tonight. She tapped him gently on the nose. “Better hurry home,” she teased, “or your papa will give your bedroom to the cats.” 

“No!” Jenny yelped, and tugged her brother’s hand. “Kip, c’mon!” 

“I’m coming!” Kip said. He waved over his shoulder as his sister dragged him away. “Bye, Aeris!” 

Aeris waved back until they were out of sight around a bend in the path, then hurried on toward the church at a pace just shy of a run. She hadn’t planned to stop by the church tonight; it was late and she didn’t want her mother to worry. But when she’d reached the fork in the road from the train station that would take her home, she’d found her feet carrying her deeper into Sector Five instead, toward the church and the children and, apparently, the White Lady. 

She still wasn’t very good at understanding the Planet, but she was getting better at hearing its voice. 

The church was dark when she arrived, its heavy doors standing just far enough open for two small children to have gotten in and out again. Aeris slipped through the gap and paused out of habit to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the interior. But it wasn’t as dark as she’d expected: a soft white glow radiated from a spot at one end of the flowerbed, where the sylleblossom seeds she’d gotten from the sad man on the upper plate poked slim green stalks up through the dirt. 

Her feet quiet on the familiar floorboards, Aeris crossed the room. As she got closer, the glow resolved into the form of a woman. It was obvious why the children called her the White Lady: her skin and hair were both moonlight-pale, and she wore an elegant, form-hugging white dress whose flared hem pooled on the floor around her feet. She was crouched beside the sylleblossoms, her fingers brushing gently over the tops of the little sprouts. 

Aeris took a slow breath, drawing the Lifestream’s current into herself. Then she crouched next to the White Lady, and in her most friendly voice, said, “Hi! My name’s Aeris. What’s yours?” 

It seemed to take a moment for her words to reach through the Lifestream, but then the White Lady looked up, her blue eyes wide with surprise. Aeris smiled brightly at her. “Hey there!” she said. 

The Lady smiled back, and her mouth moved as she spoke - but no sound came out. 

Disappointed, Aeris shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t hear you.” 

The Lady made a small motion of her head, as if to say _that’s all right_. She looked down at the budding flowers, brushing her fingers over them again, then looked back up at Aeris, a question plain on her face.

“He misses you,” Aeris said softly. “He loves you very, very much.” 

The Lady smiled again, but this time it was sad. Aeris turned away, pretending to check on a nearby group of lilies to give the Lady a moment to wipe the tears from her eyes. When Aeris looked back, the Lady was fading, the wood of the altar behind her visible through her torso. 

“Hey,” Aeris said. “Next time you’re here, keep an eye out for the children, okay? They’ve seen you a couple times and would love it if you said hello.” 

The White Lady nodded, then inclined her body in a graceful bow. Aeris gave her her most cheerful smile and a wave as she faded the rest of the way from sight. She was a strong spirit, to manifest so clearly and coherently, but it still had to be difficult to hold her form for very long. Aeris wondered if she was looking for the sad man, if she wanted to see him one more time before letting go. It was a common wish for spirits who’d returned to the Planet. Maybe when Aeris found the sad man again, she could arrange a meeting. 

Humming softly to herself, Aeris slipped out of the dark church and turned her steps toward home. It was late, after all, and she didn’t want to make her mother worry.

* * *

Cloud yawned as he stepped out of the elevator on the SOLDIER staff floor and headed for his office. He didn’t know what time it was, other than after midnight, and he didn’t really want to know. It was the weekend after the Firsts’ trip to the Gold Saucer, which meant half the Seconds were gone on their own vacation, leaving the Firsts to cover for them. Cloud had spent the last three days - or maybe it was four, he’d lost track with all the time zone changes - running missions across both continents. 

He hadn’t slept the whole time, either, Reno’s request to not rock the boat until Caelum could avert the war between Rufus and Lazard ringing in his mind. If Cloud’s nightmares were what was causing the president’s descent into madness, then Cloud needed to keep them under control. But with half the Seconds away, they didn’t have the personnel to spare to allow Kunsel to travel everywhere with Cloud. Cloud could go longer without sleep if he needed to, but Kunsel had messaged him an hour ago that he’d just returned to headquarters himself, and had twelve hours before he had to leave on his next mission. Cloud just needed to drop off the mission paperwork, then he could actually get a full eight hours of nightmare-free sleep. 

Unfortunately, Cloud wasn’t the only one working late. Sephiroth’s presence on the floor was a buzz of low-level irritation at the back of Cloud’s mind, the general’s annoyance with the non-stop paperwork required by his rank leaking through their connection. A knock on his office door was more a formality than a necessity, since Sephiroth had likely been aware of Cloud’s approach since he’d gotten out of the helicopter. Cloud pushed the door open without waiting for a response.

And did a double-take. Sephiroth sat behind his desk as normal, wearing his normal SOLDIER regulation pants and non-regulation black coat - but very unlike normal, his long silver hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. 

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, clearly daring Cloud to say anything about it. 

Not that Cloud planned to; he was too tired to deal with this right now. “Here,” he said, and dropped the folder full of mission reports on Sephiroth’s desk. “Tell Lazard I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow afternoon. This afternoon. Whatever.” 

Sephiroth picked up the folder and thumbed rapidly through it. “I’ll let him know,” he said. “Get some sleep. Nothing urgent has come in.” 

Cloud grunted acknowledgement and started to leave. Then stopped in the door, sighed, and half turned back. His primary mission still was, after all, to keep Sephiroth from going insane and destroying the world. “Offer’s still open,” he said quietly. “I can take you to see her, if you want.” 

In the middle of sliding the folder into place in a stack of similar folders, Sephiroth paused, something complicated flashing across his face. “I appreciate it,” he said, “but I was able to get in touch with Vincent Valentine. We’re still working out the details, as it’ll have to wait until after the last of the Thirds’ Gold Saucer trips, but he agreed to take me.” He didn’t so much smile as allow his rueful amusement to flow across their connection. “I thought perhaps that would be less... _awkward_ for all concerned.”

That might be the truest thing Cloud had heard all week. He snorted. “What’s Vincent been up to, anyway?” 

“Avoiding Tseng, mostly,” Sephiroth said, accepting the change of subject smoothly. “While he hasn’t explained the details of their arrangement, I understand he negotiated quite a bit of leeway into his contract - more even than a SOLDIER First.”

“He _was_ originally a Turk,” Cloud said. 

“He knows their tricks,” Sephiroth agreed. “I asked if he’s aware of the… Caelum situation, but unfortunately he doesn’t know more than has been made public. I told him what we learned at Dio’s.” He paused for the barest of moments, and again their connection flickered to life: he meant what Reno had told the Firsts about the mysterious black-haired woman who seemed to be following Noctis around. Sephiroth continued, “Given his own enhancements, he was intrigued. He agreed to investigate that angle further.” 

“He’s always been good at digging up secrets,” Cloud said.

Sephiroth nodded, then abruptly reached for something off to the side of his desk. “Oh. While you’re here, I need your signature on this.” He held out a sheet of paper.

Reluctantly, Cloud took it and skimmed it: _experimental SOLDIER procedure, supervision of Dr. Angela Meridian, parent or guardian consent, Cloud Strife to undergo—_ “What the hell is this?” he demanded. “My contract says no doctors. Period.” 

“It’s not for you,” Sephiroth said. “Your, ah, _nephew_ wishes to participate in an experimental procedure crafted by Dr. Meridian to continue the SOLDIER program in the absence of Jenova cells. As his legal guardian, you must sign off on the process before he can participate.” 

Cloud stared at Sephiroth with his mouth open, not sure which part of that was more appalling. Finally he settled for, “ _I’m_ his legal guardian?” 

“He put your name down when he signed on with ShinRa,” Sephiroth said blandly, and held out a pen. “I thought you were aware.”

“No.” Cloud gave in to the urge to clap a hand over his eyes and drag it down his face. He’d completely forgotten about it in the decade and a half since he’d done it, but he’d lied on his own enlistment forms as a fourteen-year-old - as had most of the other kids in his troop. Officially, ShinRa didn’t employ anyone younger than eighteen without a parent or guardian’s consent, but the reality was that everyone lied on their forms and ShinRa was just happy to have the steady stream of bodies to throw into their wars. It hadn’t occurred to Cloud that his younger self from this reality might tell the truth. Then again, Cloud hadn’t had an “uncle” already in SOLDIER to lean on, either. “I’m not signing this.”

“He’ll be disappointed,” Sephiroth said.

“I don’t care,” Cloud snapped. “I’m not letting the Science Department experiment on him.” 

Sephiroth set the pen down and folded his hands over it, his green eyes fixed on his own fingers resting against the desk. “If I may,” he said. “You’re the most stubborn person I have ever met, Cloud. Do you truly believe your refusal to sign this form will discourage your nephew from doing whatever he can to live up to your reputation?” 

Cloud snarled and paced two steps away from the desk before catching himself. “I don’t—He shouldn’t!” 

“Why not?” 

The frustration bled away as quickly as it had flared up, leaving only the hollow ache of memories in his chest. “When I was his age, I wanted… I wanted to be like _you_ ,” he muttered. “Look where that got me.” 

Sephiroth was silent for a long moment, seeming to weigh his words, though thankfully the connection between them stayed quiescent. Finally he said softly, “You’ve gone to great lengths to ensure nothing of the sort can happen this time around. Wouldn’t it be nice to give your nephew a chance to realize his own dream, in a way that doesn’t require such suffering?” 

Cloud scowled at him. “ _You_ aren’t supposed to sound _reasonable_.” 

“Hmph,” Sephiroth said, and this time he let his amusement curl the corner of his mouth into a smile, let it flash across their connection. “Who do I have to thank for that?” 

“Fine,” Cloud growled. “I’ll… talk to him.” He shoved the consent form into a pocket and stalked out of the office before Sephiroth could say anything else. _Gaia_ , he hadn’t thought he could hate the man more for being sane than for being a megalomaniac bent on destroying the world and becoming a god. 

At least the talk with his younger self could wait until tomorrow, after he’d gotten some sleep.

* * *

The chatter of excited voices coming up the hall was enough warning for Angeal to step aside, cradling his mug of coffee where none of the approaching Seconds could jostle it. They passed him in a raucous flood, duffel bags slung over their shoulders, Gold Saucer souvenir t-shirts and sunglasses bright against the industrial ShinRa halls. Noctis Lucis Caelum brought up the rear, chatting lightly with one of the older Seconds. 

He stopped when he saw Angeal, though, waving his companion on. “Hey, Angeal.” 

“Welcome back,” Angeal said. “Did you have a good vacation?”

Noctis shrugged. “Good enough. Took the high scores on another couple of arcade games, tried out the coaster.”

“Win anything?” Angeal asked. “Zack hasn’t stopped talking about that moogle Sephiroth won for him.” 

“Well,” Noctis said with a chuckle, “I didn’t have the great General Sephiroth helping me, but I did get a chocobo.” He turned away to root in his duffel for a moment; there was a gentle crystalline tinkling sound and Angeal was half-expecting him to pull out some kind of glass ornament. Instead, when Noctis turned back, he was holding a fuzzy, bright yellow stuffed bird. “My best friend loves chocobos, so I thought...” He trailed off uncertainly.

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” Angeal said. “What’s his name?” 

“Prompto,” Noctis answered. He hesitated, almost shy, then added, “I can show you a picture, if you’d like?”

“Of course,” Angeal said.

Noctis tucked the chocobo back into his duffel, then pulled out a printed photograph and held it out to Angeal. Four young men stood on a beach, clearly posing for the camera, with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders and a bright, glittering expanse of water behind them. Noctis was in the middle, a few years younger, his face rounder and his eyes less hard. Leaning on his shoulder was a boy who looked the same age as the Noctis in the photo, with hair as yellow and spiky as Cloud’s, and a brilliant smile on his freckled face. The two men on Noctis’s other side looked a few years older, around the same age he was now. One wore an academic’s glasses and a reserved expression, while the other had a muscular build to rival Angeal’s own and a friendly grin at odds with the scar down one eye. 

“That’s Prompto,” Noctis said, pointing to the one with bright yellow hair. “We’ve been best friends since we were fifteen. And that’s Ignis,” with a tap on the one with glasses. “He’s been with me since I was… four or five? Pretty much forever. And this is Gladio.” Another tap, this time on the scarred man. “His dad was—uh, his dad worked for my dad, so we’ve known each other since we were little, but we only started hanging out when I was in middle school.” 

“Your family,” Angeal guessed. Noctis nodded, his expression simultaneously fond and sad. Cautiously, Angeal asked, “What happened to them? Cloud said you told him you were looking for them.” 

Noctis shrugged one shoulder. “It’s… complicated,” he said. He pulled the photo close, bowing his head so his hair hid his face. “We were traveling. Looking for a way to… to protect our home. But we got separated, and I…” He shook his head. “I ended up all the way on the West Continent, and now I have no idea where they are.” 

“I’m sorry,” Angeal said gently. He put a hand on Noctis’s shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to help you find them again, all you have to do is ask.” 

“Thanks,” Noctis said. He glanced up from under his bangs with a shy smile. “I, uh. Need to drop my bag off, but then do you want to grab dinner? I know it’s late, but there’s a really good dumpling place a few blocks away that’s still open.” 

Angeal grinned back. “Sure. Sounds a lot better than the paperwork I have waiting for me. Meet you back here in five minutes?” 

“Deal,” Noctis agreed, and hurried off in the direction of the barracks. Angeal turned in the opposite direction, heading to his office to drop off his coffee mug. He knew he ought to be pushing Noctis harder for information, following up on the crumbs he was dropping - but Angeal found he didn’t care about any of that. Noctis was treating him like a friend, something Angeal hadn’t really had for nearly a year. 

He wasn’t going to risk that for anything.


	30. Beside Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud talks with his younger self, and has a frightening revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! A little bit of spookiness in this week's chapter, to celebrate the season. }:] 
> 
> (In other words, I've been promising there's a plot for _ages_. Here we are, at last!)

It was definitely because of the mission overload caused by half the Seconds being on vacation for a weekend, and definitely  _ not _ because Cloud was avoiding it, that it took him until nearly the following weekend to find his “nephew” to talk about the permission form. Cloud had an unexpected free day after a scheduled mission to the Junon area got canceled thanks to the target monster breaking into a munitions warehouse on the edge of town and blowing itself up. With no further excuses to put off the conversation, Cloud reluctantly headed down to the cadets’ indoor training grounds. 

His past self had only just graduated out of the six-month boot camp all applicants to ShinRa’s military force started with. What little of that experience Cloud remembered, behind the years in Hojo’s lab and the memories he’d absorbed from Zack, had been miserable. He hadn’t had any more luck making friends among the cadets than he’d had growing up in Nibelheim, and had been lonely and homesick and desperate for someone - anyone - to look at him and see more than a failure. In hindsight, it was no wonder he’d latched on to Zack so thoroughly. 

Now, though, his past self seemed to be… well, _thriving_ probably wasn’t the word; he was still Cloud’s teenage self, and Cloud had barely met the physical qualifications to graduate. But an extra two years of teenage growth had done his younger counterpart a world of good. While he was lagging behind most of his peers as they ran laps around the training ground, a couple of the other cadets had slowed down to run with him, and the three of them were talking animatedly. Or at least, the two other cadets were talking; Young Cloud barely managed a word or two through the huffing and puffing. 

Cloud scanned the rest of the troop. Two dozen kids, none of them older than twenty and several, like his past self, significantly younger. Somewhat creepily, Cloud thought he recognized a few of the faces, though he couldn’t have said if it was from those half-lost memories of his own time as a cadet, or from the years of fighting ShinRa’s soldiers afterwards. The training ground, too, was unpleasantly familiar, pungent with the scent of rubber, stress, and teenage sweat. 

The cause of the stress and sweat was the sergeant who ran the drills, a hulking man whose name Cloud had done his best to forget the moment he no longer had to report to him. He hadn’t noticed Cloud yet, focused like a hawk on the cadets as he yelled disparaging comments about their manhood. Cloud remembered those, too; remembered the struggle not to take them personally after years of hearing similar taunts from the other kids in Nibelheim. He’d thought back then that the sergeant had something against him personally, though he’d never understood why. Maybe it was just that he’d been the runt of the litter, small and weak and barely able to keep up. Part of him longed to draw First Tsurugi now, and see if the sergeant had any bite to back up all that bark. 

A commotion on the running track caught Cloud’s attention, snapping him out of his memories: the cadets had spotted him. Whispers of curiosity and awe ricocheted through the cadets’ ranks, and he saw the moment his younger self caught on. Young Cloud’s head snapped up and he beamed a delighted grin, despite the redness of his face and the sweat pouring down his temples. 

Cloud jerked his head, signaling for his younger self to join him on the sidelines. The kid’s friends traded quick hand- and shoulder slaps with him, then he broke from the lines and jogged toward Cloud. 

“Cadet Strife!” the sergeant boomed, and it took everything Cloud had to not instantly snap to attention and look contrite. His younger self _did_ snap to attention, sharp as a rabbit spotted by a hawk. 

One of the cadets who’d been running with the kid started to say, “Sir—”, but the sergeant cut him off with a growl. He strode toward Young Cloud, his perpetually red face growing redder as he prepared to unleash a tirade. 

Cloud took a step forward, into the sergeant’s line of sight. 

For a second he thought the man was going to overlook him entirely. Cloud wasn’t much bigger than his teenage self, which meant he was head and shoulders shorter than the sergeant, and probably had half the body mass. But his resemblance to his younger self worked in his favor for once, because the sergeant did a double-take, looking between Young Cloud in his standard-issue cadet uniform and Cloud in his non-regulation but still First Class-black leathers with First Tsurugi on his back. It was more satisfying than Cloud had expected to watch realization creep into the man’s face as he looked from Cloud to Young Cloud and back again. 

“Sergeant,” Cloud said neutrally. “I need to speak with my nephew for a minute.” 

“Your… your _nephew?_ ” the sergeant sputtered. Gears were clearly turning in his head, and Cloud wondered what it was doing to the sergeant’s mental assessment of Young Cloud to realize one of ShinRa’s strongest SOLDIER’s was his uncle. 

Then the sergeant’s eyes flicked upward, toward the rest of the tower high overhead, and Cloud remembered that he wasn’t the only person in ShinRa to whom Young Cloud bore a noticeable family resemblance. 

It took all his willpower not to clap a hand over his eyes. No wonder the sergeant had hated him all those years ago. A previously-unknown ShinRa bastard turning up unexpectedly in the cadets’ program had probably caused all kinds of trouble for everyone. A ShinRa bastard who was the nephew of a SOLDIER First was probably going to cause even more headaches - and questions that Cloud wasn’t prepared to answer. He’d need to let Kunsel know later, to see if there was anything they could do about it. 

Right now, though, Cloud forced himself to hold the sergeant’s gaze, his spine straight and arms crossed. It didn’t take long for the sergeant to back down; he grumbled unintelligibly under his breath and waved for Young Cloud to go ahead. The kid bounced the rest of the way to Cloud and fell into step beside him as Cloud turned to leave the big room. 

“Hey, Uncle Cloud,” the kid said, then made a face. “Sorry. It’s _weird_ calling you that.” 

Cloud shrugged, not sure how to respond - it was equally weird hearing it. They walked for a few steps in silence along the hall outside the training grounds, and finally he managed, “You can just call me ‘Strife’ if you want.” 

“That’s still weird,” the kid said, and smiled shyly. “It’s fine, I’ll get used to it. So, uh, anyway, how are you? We haven’t seen each other since I started training.” 

Cloud shrugged again. “Fine. Busy.” He didn’t want to talk about himself; it was too weird, with his younger self. Especially since the kid still didn’t know the truth about who - _what_ \- Cloud really was. “How about you? How’d boot camp go?” 

“Fine,” the kid said with a shrug that was a perfect imitation of Cloud’s own. “Glad I’m out, though.”

“Looks like you made friends?” Cloud asked. 

The kid nodded. “Lasalo and Jasper. They’re big fans of yours,” he added proudly. 

_ Gaia _ . Cloud resisted the urge to sigh. He’d be a lot happier if he never had to remember that he had fans now. 

The silence dragged on for a few more steps. Cloud had been walking them toward the break room on this floor, which would be empty right now since all the cadets were in training, and now they rounded the corner into the room. His younger self said, tentative, “So, um. Is this about the permission form? Because I sent it up a week ago, and, and I know you’re busy and everything so I wasn’t expecting it to come back right away, but that’s also the only reason you’d come all the way down here and pull me out of drills, right?”

Reluctantly, Cloud nodded. “Why do you want to do it?” 

The kid stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “Why _wouldn’t_ I want to do it?” he demanded. “I’m here to join SOLDIER! Dr. Meridian says the old process is outdated and they’re testing a new one. Don’t you think that’s really cool?” 

“No,” Cloud said flatly. “There isn’t anything ‘cool’ about letting scientists experiment on you.” 

“But you did!”

Cloud whirled on his younger self so sharply that the kid fell back, blue eyes wide. “I didn’t _let_ Hojo do _anything_ ,” he snarled. Hojo’s voice in his head, a memory from the Northern Crater: _Jenova cells and Mako, with my knowledge and skills, have been combined with science and nature to bring him to life._ “I didn’t want this.”

But that wasn’t true, was it? Staring at his younger self, at his mako-free blue eyes, Cloud couldn’t help but remember his own dreams at that age. All he’d wanted was to be a SOLDIER. He would have given _anything,_ signed anything, done anything to get that chance. 

He didn’t know what was on his face, but his younger self’s jaw hardened into an all-too-familiar stubborn pout. “Well, I’m not you,” the kid said, and Cloud almost laughed at the irony. “And I _do_ want this,” the kid continued.

“Then do it when you’re old enough to not need a permission slip,” Cloud said. “I’m not letting some scientist stuff you in a tank and fill you full of who knows what.” 

“But that’ll be _years!_ ” the kid protested. “I don’t want to wait that long, and anyway Dr. Meridian thinks it’ll be more effective the younger we are.” 

“Then she can find someone else to experiment on.” 

His younger self scowled, folding his arms and slouching against a counter. “I came here to be a SOLDIER,” he said. “Why won’t you let me? If I can do it when I’m eighteen, why not now?”

“I’d stop you when you were eighteen, too, if I could,” Cloud said bluntly. “You have no idea what you’d be signing up for. Trust me when I say you don’t want to do this.” 

He’d been too weak, too unstable, to make it into the SOLDIER program as a cadet, but Hojo hadn’t cared about that. _Professor Hojo... I don't have a number. You didn't give me one because you said I was a failed experiment._ A failed experiment who’d turned out to be the most successful of all Hojo’s creations, in the end. What would happen to his younger counterpart, in the hands of a scientist who wasn’t Hojo? Cloud shuddered. He didn’t want to find out. 

“Uncle Cloud,” the kid said. “Please. Maybe you didn’t want it, but I _do_. And…” He hesitated, fidgeting, biting his lip, then blurted, “I’m not strong like you are. This program is my only shot at making SOLDIER. _Please_ ,” he repeated. “I just… I want to be strong.” 

Without meaning to, Cloud filled in the rest of that sentence in his head: _so Tifa will notice me_. Old memories, blurred and faded behind the Northern Crater, behind Zack, behind the lab, of wanting with all his heart for Tifa to notice him. To care about him. To care that he existed at all. Wishes from a lifetime ago for Cloud, but the most urgent thing in the world for his younger self. 

Sephiroth’s words from that late-night conversation last weekend ran through his mind: _Wouldn’t it be nice to give your nephew a chance to realize his own dream, in a way that doesn’t require such suffering?_

Cloud sighed. As much as he hated it, Sephiroth had been right. Cloud knew better than anyone what it would mean for his younger self to get this chance. And he really had done everything in his power to make it as safe a chance as possible. Hojo was dead, and according to Kunsel, Dr. Meridian hadn’t had anything to do with him or his Jenova research. Maybe it would be safe. 

The kid was still watching him, blue eyes wide and pleading. Before he could change his mind, Cloud said, “Fine. I’ll sign the form.” 

“Yes!” The kid bounced with delight. “Thank you, Uncle Cloud!” 

“Just… promise me you’ll be careful,” Cloud added. “Call me if anything feels weird, or you don’t want to do it anymore. I’ll make it stop.” 

The kid started to nod, then hesitated. “I don’t have your PHS number.” 

“Oh.” Cloud pulled out his own PHS - the kid wouldn’t have his on hand during drills - and gave it to him to punch in his own number. When his younger self handed the PHS back, Cloud snapped off a quick message: _This is your uncle._ “Now you have it.”

“Thanks,” the kid said. He looked up at Cloud shyly. “I mean it. Thank you.” 

Cloud shook his head. He didn’t want the kid thanking him for what was probably a horrible decision that Cloud really ought to be stopping. “You’d better get back to your troop,” he said. 

“Right.” The kid gave him a quick salute, then hurried away, calling “Thank you!” over his shoulder one last time. 

Cloud left the cadets’ floor at a pace just slow enough to not be a retreat. The conversation had left him unsettled, memories of the Northern Crater and Hojo calling him a failed experiment ringing through his mind. He stopped in his office long enough to sign the permission form for his past self before he lost his nerve, then dropped it in Sephiroth’s office. At least the general wasn’t back yet from his mission to the West Continent, so Cloud didn’t have to talk to him. 

He found Kunsel in the Firsts’ break room, sprawled on a couch as he filled out a mission report, with Zack sitting cross-legged on the coffee table and chatting aimlessly. Kunsel shifted so Cloud could sit next to him before Cloud needed to ask; Cloud leaned against his shoulder and tried not to think about Hojo. It was harder than it should have been. Even Zack’s story about a ridiculous incident on his last mission involving one of the Turks, the Ancient Forest, and a particularly stubborn frog wasn’t enough to distract him from memories of ice and despair.

It was almost a relief when Angeal wandered into the room. “Oh, there you are,” he said to Zack. “Have you seen Noctis anywhere?” 

“Nope,” Zack said. “Why?”

“Rufus ShinRa’s tailor is looking for him,” Angeal said dryly. “Apparently he needs to be fitted for the ShinRa Company Gala.”

“Won’t he just be wearing his dress uniform?” Zack asked, then, before Angeal could answer, yelped, “Crap. Do _we_ need to get fitted for new uniforms? I _just_ had to get mine redone because I outgrew my first set—” 

Angeal chuckled, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “No, you’re fine. Rufus wants Noctis and me to have some kind of special outfit.”

“You, too?” Zack said. “Why?” 

“Noct asked,” Angeal explained. “He told me Rufus wants to use the gala to show the solidarity between the ShinRa Board of Directors and SOLDIER. A couple of Turks are going to wear SOLDIER-affiliated insignia and represent Rufus with Lazard.”

“Politics,” Zack groused, and shook his head. “I’ll never get it.”

“I wish we didn’t have to,” Angeal admitted, “but it’s part of being a SOLDIER.” His mouth twisted in a wry grimace.

“Well, I can’t help with the tailor,” Zack said. “I haven’t seen Noct since yesterday.” 

“He’s on a mission to the Northern Crater,” Kunsel added absently, still focused on his report.

Cloud twitched. “He’s where?” 

Kunsel blinked, seeming to focus on him for the first time. “The Northern Crater,” he repeated. “There’s been reports of rapidly increasing monster activity in the area.” 

Cloud’s skin itched. 

“I saw that mission,” Zack said. “Wasn’t it marked for us? For First Class, I mean?” 

_ For me, _ Cloud thought.  _It was my mission._

“Lazard has been making noises about Noct being ready for First Class,” Angeal said. “He probably gave it to him as his first test.” 

_ But it’s my mission. I’m supposed to go to the Northern Crater. _

“What?” 

All three of them were looking at Cloud. He stared back, ice trickling across his skin. Zack repeated, “What did you say, Cloud?” 

“I said…” Had he said it out loud? His ears were ringing.

“It wasn’t your mission,” Kunsel said carefully. “Lazard’s had it earmarked for Noctis since it came in.” 

“Cloud?” Zack said. He sounded worried. Why did Zack sound worried?

...when had Cloud stood up? He made himself unclench his fists, or tried to. It didn’t work. “I’m supposed to be in the Northern Crater,” he said. It came out a growl, and Zack flinched back. 

“Cloud,” Kunsel said. “Cloud, are you—” He froze when Cloud turned to look at him, his eyes going wide. “Whoa. Cloud, you, uh. You should sit down.” 

“I can’t,” Cloud ground out. “I need to go.” 

Angeal was in front of him. When had that happened? Cloud’s head ached; he didn’t remember moving, but he was at the door to the break room and Angeal was in front of him, blocking his way. “Move,” Cloud said. 

“No,” Angeal said. His voice was firm, but there was fear in his eyes. “Cloud, stop. You aren’t yourself.”

_ You are a puppet. _

“No!” Cloud snarled. “I’m fine! I’m  _me!”_

“Cloud,” Angeal said quietly, carefully. “Cloud… you have Sephiroth’s eyes.”


	31. Unplanned Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angeal and Genesis scheme, and Sephiroth requests a personal leave of absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!!! (Or if you're also reading my other FFXV fic, I live AGAIN!) Thank you all so much for your patience. <3 I've had a rough few months, between a bunch of work stress and /waves vaguely at everything America. Updates will likely be slower and less regular for a while, until I get some time to recover from burnout. I'm sticking with this fic, though - things are just starting to get interesting! }:]

“How is he?” Angeal asked, pitching his voice too low to carry. The hall outside the break room was quiet and empty aside from the two of them, but SOLDIERs had excellent hearing.

Zack glanced over his shoulder, as though making sure the door to the break room was closed, even though he’d been the one to shut it seconds ago when he’d finally emerged. “Not good,” he said, equally soft. “But his eyes are back to normal, at least.” 

“Kunsel is with him,” Angeal said, mostly to reassure Zack. It was probably for the best that Cloud had collapsed in hysterical panic, rather than… any of the other potential reactions he could have had. Angeal didn’t have any scars from it, thanks to Genesis’s curative magic, but he still had nightmares about that one-sided battle on the path up Mount Nibel, months ago when Jenova had tried to make Cloud into her puppet. Angeal hadn’t been in fighting shape at the time, but he doubted that even now, fully restored, he’d be any kind of match for a Cloud as single-mindedly determined to pass as he’d been back then.

“Yeah,” Zack agreed. He shifted his weight nervously, and finally blurted, “What do we do?” 

“Did Cloud say anything about what might be causing this?” Angeal asked. He was trying not to think about what Hollander had told him last year, about Cloud being a clone of Sephiroth. Cloud had insisted he wasn’t, but it was hard to deny the evidence. Even setting aside their S-cells, Cloud could outfight Sephiroth, and now with his eyes changing again...

“He said he’s been thinking about the Northern Crater a lot,” Zack said, interrupting Angeal’s musing. “But just, like, old memories. Nightmares, that kind of thing.” 

“He’s acting exactly the same as when Jenova was calling him, back on Mount Nibel,” Angeal said, rubbing his chin. 

“But Jenova’s gone!” Zack protested. “Genesis burned her, didn’t he?” 

Angeal nodded. “But I recall Kunsel telling us afterwards that in Cloud’s timeline, a piece of Jenova’s remains made its way from the Nibel reactor up to the Northern Crater via the currents of the Lifestream.” 

“You think that’s what happened? Some piece of Jenova survived, and is calling to him?” 

“I’m not sure what else it could be,” Angeal admitted. He didn’t know how much, if anything, the others knew about Cloud being a Sephiroth clone. Obviously, based on the events last year at the Nibel reactor, they all knew Cloud had Jenova cells inside him, which was both the source of Cloud and Sephiroth’s strange connection, and the reason Jenova had been able to influence Cloud at Nibelheim. 

But Angeal’s gut told him that what had happened just now with Cloud wasn’t as simple as Cloud being a Sephiroth clone. It hadn’t been until Kunsel had mentioned the Northern Crater that Cloud had started acting strangely - if all this was only Cloud’s S-cells turning him into something more closely resembling Sephiroth, then why the obsession with the Northern Crater? Why the insistence on going there, of all places? 

The only logical explanation was Jenova. 

“Wait,” Zack said, his head snapping up sharply. “If it _is_ Jenova, then what about Sephiroth? What if she’s summoning him, too?” 

“He said he didn’t hear her at the reactor back then,” Angeal said, but worry twisted his gut anyway. Clone or not, according to Hollander, Sephiroth still had the same levels of S-cells as Cloud did. And if they really were clones... “Still, it’s a valid point.”

“He’s on that mission to the West Continent,” Zack said. “Should I call him?” 

“Worth a try,” Angeal said. “Knowing whether or not he’s also being… summoned, or whatever this is, may help us figure out what to do about Cloud.” 

Zack already had his PHS out, thumb flying over the keypad. They both listened to it ring, Zack muttering, “Pick up, pick _up!_ ” under his breath. But as the call clicked over to voicemail, something occurred to Angeal, and he reached out and snapped the device closed, ending the call. 

“Hey!” Zack protested. “What happened to finding out if he’s hearing Jenova?” 

“We need to be cautious,” Angeal warned. “If Jenova is summoning Cloud but not Sephiroth yet, then it’s possible that telling Sephiroth might cause him to reach out to her, albeit unintentionally.”

Zack stared at him in horror. “You think that could happen?” 

“We don’t know nearly enough about Jenova or what she’s capable of,” Angeal said grimly.

“Then what do we do?” 

“Sephiroth is supposed to be back tomorrow morning,” Angeal said, thinking it through as he spoke. “We can test our theory without letting him know what we’re up to.”

“How?” Zack asked. He bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly afraid and restless with it. 

Angeal gave him the most reassuring smile he could manage. “You and Kunsel just focus on keeping Cloud calm tonight. I have a plan.” 

* * *

“Well?” Genesis muttered. “Go on.” 

It was the morning after Cloud’s episode in the break room. Angeal and Genesis stood outside the door to Sephiroth’s office; Angeal had recruited Genesis for backup just in case things went south. He knew full well Genesis would have preferred to be at Cloud’s side, but thankfully Genesis had ceded to the reality that Zack and Kunsel were better-suited to keeping Cloud calm, while Angeal and Genesis were the most likely to be able to handle Sephiroth if— 

There would be no _if_. Sephiroth hadn’t heard Jenova back at Nibelheim; he wouldn’t try to attack them now. 

Angeal grimaced at Genesis, acknowledging his own hesitation. Then he raised a fist and rapped on Sephiroth’s office door. 

“Come in,” Sephiroth called. 

Schooling his face into neutrality, Angeal opened the door and stepped inside, Genesis on his heels. Sephiroth sat at his desk, filling out his mission report. He looked normal enough, aside from his hair being up in a ponytail again the way he’d been wearing it most days since the Gold Saucer. Then again, they wouldn’t be able to tell from his eyes if he was feeling anything strange. 

Sephiroth gave them a small smile as they entered. “A welcome-home committee,” he said, his voice customarily dry. “To what do I owe the honor?” 

“We need a tiebreaker,” Genesis announced dramatically, and tossed a trio of mission briefings onto Sephiroth’s desk. “Pick one.” 

Sephiroth barely glanced at the three papers. “The one in the Northern Crater.” 

Angeal’s stomach plummeted; from the corner of his eye he saw Genesis’s jaw tense. Cautiously Angeal said, “You sure? I’d have figured the one in Wutai was more your style.” 

It was, and so was the third mission to the Goblin Islands. He and Genesis had carefully crafted all three mission briefings last night so that those two would appeal to Sephiroth and the one marked “Northern Crater” would be too dull to even consider. But Sephiroth crushed what little hope Angeal had clung to by saying, “I’ve been thinking about going up there anyway. Might as well deal with that along the way.” Then he frowned at them. “What’s wrong?” 

Genesis made the ' _you tell him'_ face. Angeal glared back. Sephiroth folded his arms and scowled at both of them. “What is it?” he demanded. 

“How long have you been thinking about going to the Northern Crater?” Angeal asked.

Sephiroth blinked a few times. “I don’t know. Recently, I suppose. Why?” 

Angeal fought the urge to glance over Sephiroth’s shoulder, where Masamune rested on its stand behind his desk, well within arm’s reach. “Something strange happened to Cloud yesterday,” he said. As quickly as possible, he laid it out for Sephiroth, finishing with, “If you’ll recall, Kunsel said that in Cloud’s timeline, Jenova ended up in the Northern Crater.”

“You think it’s calling us,” Sephiroth said. He’d gone still and expressionless in the way that meant he was strictly controlling his reactions. “Hence offering me those missions.” 

Genesis nodded. “Do you feel anything strange? Voices, compulsions?”

“Just a desire to go to the Northern Crater,” Sephiroth admitted. “Though it occurs to me that what I feel may be nothing more than an echo of what Cloud is feeling. While I will admit to such a desire, it’s not a compulsion to the level you describe for Cloud.” 

“We can hope that’s all it is,” Angeal said, “but we should proceed as though you, too, are being directly called.”

“The safest choice,” Sephiroth agreed. “We should go let Lazard know.” 

Angeal and Genesis traded a glance. “You want to tell Lazard about Jenova?” Angeal asked.

Sephiroth did that rapid blinking again. “No,” he said, as though it were obvious. “That we’re going to the Northern Crater.” 

Genesis clapped a hand over his eyes. “We are _not_ going to the Northern Crater, Sephiroth, that’s the whole _point!_ ” 

“Of course we are,” Sephiroth said. He stood up and circled the desk, brushing past them to the door. “If some remnant of Jenova has made its way there, then we need to follow it and destroy it.”

“Sephiroth!” Genesis protested, but Sephiroth was already out the door.

He headed up the hall toward Lazard’s office at a brisk, long-legged pace, Angeal and Genesis trailing helplessly in his wake. Angeal tried, “Wouldn’t it be safer for you and Cloud to stay here, at least?” 

“Cloud won’t stay if I go, and I certainly have no intention of letting him go alone,” Sephiroth said. 

Genesis grimaced at Angeal behind Sephiroth’s back. For all that he said he wasn’t feeling any strange compulsions, Sephiroth clearly wasn’t thinking straight about the subject. Angeal shrugged helplessly in response. 

Lazard’s office door was closed, usually a sign that he was busy and not taking visitors. Sephiroth strode inside anyway, not bothering to announce himself.

Lazard looked up from his desk in surprise. “Sephiroth,” he said politely. “Angeal. Genesis. What can I do for you?” 

“We’re putting in for a short leave,” Sephiroth announced. “A week should do.” 

Lazard stared at him. “All three of you?” 

“Four,” Sephiroth corrected, then paused, considering. “Six. I expect Kunsel and Zack will wish to accompany Cloud.” 

Lazard looked past him at Angeal and Genesis; Angeal gave a slight shake of his head, trying to convey _this wasn’t our idea._ Turning back to Sephiroth, Lazard said, “General, I’m sure you’re aware that the other half of the Seconds departed for their Gold Saucer vacation this morning. I can’t afford to allow all six Firsts to go on leave at the same time. Plus, the gala is next week. Whatever this is, I’m sorry, but it’ll have to wait.” 

Something _shifted_ in Sephiroth’s posture; he’d been expressionless since Angeal explained what was going on, but now he went utterly still. Angeal couldn’t put his finger on it, but he was suddenly deeply grateful that Sephiroth had left Masamune behind in his office. Sephiroth said flatly, “It can’t wait.” 

There was a long pause as Lazard and Sephiroth stared at each other. Then, very deliberately, Lazard set down his pen, stood up from his desk, circled around the three of them, and palmed the lock on the door to his office, sealing the room. Turning back to face them, he resettled his glasses on his nose. “What are you not telling me?” 

“It’s merely a leave request,” Sephiroth said. 

Lazard folded his arms, looking frustrated. “I find it difficult to believe that anything could be so urgent as to require all six of my Firsts to go on unexpected leave, at the same time as a significant fraction of the rest of my SOLDIERs depart on a planned vacation.” He hesitated, visibly debating with himself, then finally asked, “To be quite blunt about this… Is Rufus ShinRa sending you away?” 

“No,” Sephiroth said, and then unhelpfully didn’t elaborate. Genesis shot a glance at Angeal: _should we tell him?_ Angeal gave a wry grimace in return: _not about Jenova._

Lazard watched their exchange with a frown. “I had hoped,” he said, “that perhaps the Vice President’s proposal for the upcoming gala meant that he and I could…” He stopped, drew a breath, tried again. “I believe the three of you are aware of the, ah… _tension_ , over the past several months, between myself and the Vice President.” 

Angeal and Genesis both nodded. They’d been the ones to tell Lazard weeks ago that Rufus was trying to buy SOLDIER loyalty out from beneath him, though they’d said nothing else about the brewing war. Apparently, Lazard had known more than he’d let on at the time. 

“From what I’ve heard about the plans for the gala,” Angeal said carefully, “I thought the situation might be improving.”

Lazard smiled tightly. “You mean, that Rufus might stop plotting to kill me.” 

Angeal winced - that was getting well beyond “blunt”. “Something like that.”

“Actually,” Genesis spoke up suddenly - and Angeal knew that gleam in his eye; he had an idea. “Director, are you aware of the more recent developments regarding Rufus ShinRa and SOLDIER Second Class Noctis Lucis Caelum?” 

“Caelum again,” Lazard said, though it wasn’t angry, just contemplative. “I understand he’s been spending quite a bit of time with the Vice President. They’ve grown quite close, from the sound of things.” 

“More than that,” Genesis said. “According to… an informant of ours who is intimately familiar with the situation, Noctis has had a remarkably, ah, _moderating_ effect on Rufus. To the point of dissuading him from taking any drastic actions.” 

Lazard pushed his glasses back up his nose in such a way that the overhead lights gleamed off their surface, hiding his eyes for a moment. “Is that so.” 

Abruptly Angeal saw where Genesis was going with this. “You sent Noctis on a mission to the Northern Crater yesterday morning,” he said.

“We have reason to believe - _unofficially_ , of course,” Genesis said, picking up the thread, “that Noctis may be in grave danger on that mission. Not,” he added before Lazard could interrupt, “because of his skills or anything in the mission itself, of course—” 

“But because we discovered something this morning which suggests there may be a lingering danger from Hojo’s experiments,” Sephiroth cut in smoothly. At least his mind wasn’t so clouded by whatever this compulsion was, that he couldn’t follow their lead. 

“Nibelheim,” Lazard said. “The… incident, late last year.” 

“Yes,” Angeal agreed. As far as excuses went, it wasn’t bad - it was even mostly true. Plus, ShinRa had thoroughly covered up everything that had happened there. If Lazard believed a similar cover-up was happening now, he might be less inclined to ask them tricky questions. 

“And you’re concerned that if Caelum is killed, or were to otherwise become indisposed, while in the Northern Crater, that his ‘moderating effect’ would be negated,” Lazard said with a sigh. He adjusted his glasses again, although this time it wasn’t an attempt to hide his expression. “I see.” 

“We really are sorry for this,” Angeal said. “We wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t urgent.” 

Lazard shook his head, reluctantly tapping the code to unseal the room, then went to sit back down behind his desk. “You can’t convince at least _one_ of you to stay behind? We’ve been short-handed for months as it is, and with half the Seconds gone…” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t,” Sephiroth said. 

“We’ll be as quick as possible,” Genesis promised.

“And back before the gala,” Angeal added.

“Fine,” Lazard said with another sigh. “I’ll requisition helicopters for you, which should cut down on travel time at least.” 

“We greatly appreciate that, Director,” Angeal said. 

Lazard waved a hand dismissively. “Just get going. And… try to bring yourselves and Caelum back in one piece.” 

“Understood,” Sephiroth said, and swept out of the office without further comment. Angeal shot Genesis a look: _I’ll stick with him, you go get Cloud and the others._

They were going to the Northern Crater.


	32. The Northern Crater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Firsts go to the Northern Crater, and discuss Jenova.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up having to break this out into its own chapter because Sephiroth and Kunsel decided to spend half the chapter geeking out about Jenova. ^^; At least it gives the guys a moment of calm before the storm...?

The first time Cloud had traveled to the Northern Crater, he and his friends had been emotionally and physically battered from the loss of Aeris and the days of climbing through the harsh, snowy wilderness of the Northern Continent. The second time he’d traveled to the Northern Crater, they’d flown the Highwind directly into the center of the crater’s well. This time, years in the past, they traveled via ShinRa helicopters, but the well hadn’t yet been blown open by the Weapons and the reincarnated Sephiroth. Instead, the pilots hovered above a high ridge just below the outer rim of the crater, where a natural cave plummeted into the frozen depths. 

Shouldering their gear bags, Cloud and the other Firsts jumped down into the knee-deep snow. Sephiroth strode into the cave without hesitation, the icy wind whipping his ponytail around his shoulders. Angeal and Zack followed on his heels, but Cloud hesitated outside the cave mouth. Genesis and Kunsel paused with him; Kunsel said encouragingly, “This part is fine, right? It’s where they dropped Noctis off.” 

Cloud shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about the grief and terror and rage swirling through his memories, nor did he want to admit to the relief he’d felt at arriving. It wasn’t _his_ relief, and while at least he recognized it this time, it was far too much like that first desperate trip here in pursuit of Sephiroth’s ghost. 

Genesis slung an arm around Cloud’s shoulders and tugged him forward. “Come on. We’re here to solve this, and we can’t do that if we stand around out in the cold.” 

“And some of us still _feel_ the cold,” Kunsel muttered. He tucked his hands into his armpits, shivering despite the heavy SOLDIER-issue winter jacket and mittens he wore. Cloud, Angeal, and Zack were likewise wearing cold-weather gear, while Sephiroth and Genesis had both opted to stick with their usual leather coats. 

“I feel it,” Genesis said primly as he steered Cloud into the cave. “I just choose to ignore it.” 

Kunsel rolled his eyes, and the two of them kept bickering as they picked their way carefully through a forest of stalagmites and ice formations in the cave’s mouth. Cloud tuned them out, focusing instead on his sense of Sephiroth’s presence. He hated that the man had come with them, hated that there was no way to tell whether Jenova was calling Sephiroth directly, or whether he was being influenced by Cloud - which was a sickening enough thought that Cloud had spent the entire helicopter ride here trying not to think about it. 

Sephiroth had stopped a little ways ahead, in an area where the narrow entry cave opened out into a larger space full of uneven icy ledges and sharp rock formations. He was studying a set of weapon marks in the wall while Angeal and Zack kept a wary eye on the five other openings into the cave. “Caelum fought here,” Sephiroth announced without turning, which silenced both Kunsel and Genesis. “And… likely others, judging from these marks.” 

“His mystery friends?” Genesis asked.

“Unless the mako mutants he was sent to kill have begun to use weapons, yes,” Sephiroth said dryly.

“How could his friends have shown up here, though?” Zack asked. “This place is hell to get to.” 

Genesis shook his head. “If not for his utter inability to use summon materia, I’d have to believe he has some heretofore-unknown martial summon.”

“It’s not like him having mystery friends who show up on his missions makes any more sense,” Kunsel said. “What does he even get out of that?” 

“Support,” Genesis suggested. “Perhaps he isn’t as strong as he claims to be, and he needs backup to help him on these missions.” 

“Seems pointless,” Angeal said. “Why put up that kind of front?”

“Maybe it’s the only way he thinks he can make First,” Kunsel said. “If he has some ulterior motive that involves being a First Class SOLDIER - or at least, having the ShinRa internal access we get - then he might need the boost to get the promotion.” 

They kept talking, but Cloud tuned them out and headed deeper into the cave system. It was just more of the same wild speculation that had taken them in circles weeks ago at the Gold Saucer. He suspected the chatter was as much a distraction from the ominous nature of their real purpose, as a genuine attempt at coming up with a theory, anyway. The caves were eerie, full of nerve-wracking creaks and groans as the ice settled around them, and the wind wailed through unseen cracks in the ceiling. The lighting was fickle, too: fractured and reflected through layers of ice to gleam in the shadows. To a regular person the light would’ve been almost too dim to see by, but to Cloud’s mako-enhanced vision, it was bright enough that he didn’t bother with the flashlight in his pack. 

Kunsel caught up to Cloud quickly, his longer legs letting him fall into step at Cloud’s side, and Genesis hovered on their heels. Cloud had made them - Kunsel, Zack, and Genesis - promise that if he did anything even slightly out of character, they’d incapacitate him immediately. All three of them carried injectors loaded with the same heavy-duty tranquilizer Hojo had used every time he’d had to knock Cloud out. It wasn’t a guarantee; even weakened as he’d been during his stay in Hojo’s lab, Cloud had managed to fight off the tranq’s effects for minutes at a time. But hopefully it would be enough to keep him from becoming what Sephiroth had been in Cloud’s original timeline. 

He hadn’t quite dared to give up Ribbon to allow the use of a Sleep materia. He couldn’t be sure whether Ribbon was all that stood between him and the monster he himself had nearly become eight months ago in Nibelheim. 

Gaia, he didn’t want to be here - and at the same time, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. The depths of the crater called to him, a tension in his bones like static. He wanted Sephiroth to be here even less, but Sephiroth had made clear that he wouldn’t be left behind any more than Cloud would. Still, having both of them on this mission was dangerous beyond belief. If some part of Jenova had survived, and managed to turn them both into her puppets… Cloud shuddered. 

“You okay?” Kunsel asked, his voice breaking the creaking silence and making Cloud jump. Too wrapped up in his own thoughts, he hadn’t realized the others had stopped talking. 

...Or that they were all trailing along behind him, letting Cloud take the lead. “Fine,” he said to Kunsel. “Why am I in front?” 

“You kinda seemed to know where you were going,” Zack piped up from behind him. When Cloud turned to glare at him, he rubbed the back of his head and flashed a sheepish smile. “It was easier to just follow you.” 

“I _told_ you to watch out in case I did something—something _weird_ ,” Cloud snapped. 

“It’s quite normal for you to charge ahead without waiting for the rest of us,” Sephiroth said, his voice dry.

Cloud transferred the glare to him. Sephiroth returned it levelly. “You’ve been here before,” he said. “It’s not unreasonable to expect that you know where you’re going.”

Cloud’s hand itched for First Tsurugi. “The other times I was here, it was to kill _you_ ,” he snarled.

Genesis stepped in front of him, breaking his line of sight to Sephiroth - and with it, some of the tension that sang along Cloud’s shoulder blades. “Well, this time we’re here to destroy Jenova,” he said brightly. “Perhaps I ought to take the lead for a bit. I was the one to destroy her before, after all.” 

He swept forward without waiting for an answer, hooking an arm through Cloud’s as he went and pulling him along. It was a transparent ploy to stop the argument, and for once Cloud was grateful for the lack of subtlety. He let Genesis guide him along the narrow cave path, with Kunsel on his other side, and his awareness of Sephiroth’s presence told him the man had fallen back again with Zack and Angeal. 

They walked for several more hours, plunging down through the crater’s shell on the way to the deep pit at its center. Zack filled the silence with chatter about his recent missions and more mundane adventures around Midgar, and Cloud pretended not to notice Kunsel steering Zack away from talking about Aeris. She wasn’t a safe topic, not here. 

This far underground, it was impossible to tell day from night, but Cloud thought it was early evening when they came across a small side chamber with the remnants of a firepit and the marks of tent stakes in the ice. Sephiroth called a halt to examine the site. “Caelum stayed here,” he said after a moment. “It should be safe enough for us to rest for a while.” 

“We don’t need to rest,” Cloud snapped. “Let’s keep going.” 

Deliberately, Sephiroth looked over Cloud’s shoulder - right at Kunsel, who snapped to attention. “I’m fine,” Kunsel said. “I can keep going.” 

“Good for you,” Zack cut in, “but I’m beat. C’mon, Cloud, it won’t be long. Just for a few minutes. Not all of us have your crazy stamina, remember?” 

_Weak_ , Cloud thought, then right on its heels, _what the hell._ Zack was a _teenager_ , for Odin’s sake, young and untested. He wasn’t the grown man from Cloud’s memories, who had survived four years of torture and experimentation at Hojo’s hands. He was just a kid, not even that much older than Cloud’s younger self. Kunsel was only a year older than Zack, too - and neither of them had the benefits, in this timeline, of the added enhancements from Projects G and S. 

“...yeah,” Cloud said. The word almost died in his throat under the weight of _but we’re so close_ and _we have to keep going_ , but he forced it out, and saw the way Kunsel’s shoulders eased. “Yeah, we can take a break.” 

“Awesome,” Zack proclaimed, and immediately flopped to the icy ground. “C’mon, Kuns, pull up an ice cube or something.” 

Kunsel snorted but obliged, plopping down nearby as Zack began digging ration bars out of his pack. Cloud made himself sit between them, fighting down the restless static in his bones that was pushing at him to keep walking. The others sat as well, even Sephiroth, though his leg twitched as though he felt the same pressure to keep going as Cloud. 

“So, uh, where do you think Noct is?” Zack asked absently around a mouthful of rations. “You said this was his camp?”

“Who else would it have been?” Genesis scoffed.

“Well, if it was him, where is he?” Zack shot back. “We’ve been in here for hours and haven’t seen him.” 

“He has a full day’s head start on us,” Kunsel said, looking up from rooting around in his pack. “He could be anywhere.”

“Yeah, but with how much he sleeps, I didn’t think he’d be _that_ far ahead,” Zack said.

“Actually, he’s been sleeping a lot less since the Gold Saucer,” Kunsel said. “He’s been taking on more missions, and I’ve seen him around the training rooms and the SOLDIER lounge a lot more often.” 

“Interesting,” Sephiroth murmured. “I had likewise noticed him about more frequently, but thought it was to do with his increased affiliation with Rufus ShinRa.” 

“Maybe,” Kunsel said. “Or maybe the vacation was good for him. Ah-hah,” he added, and pulled out a water canteen, taking a long, grateful drink. 

“We’re still likely moving much faster than him,” Angeal pointed out. “His assignment was to clear out the monsters that were emerging from the crater to attack nearby villages, so if he’s being as thorough as he ought to be, he won’t be moving quickly. We may come across him soon.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Genesis.” 

“What?” Genesis demanded.

“I know that look,” Angeal said, amused. “What are you thinking?”

Genesis huffed. “Only that this could be an opportunity to see Noctis in action. If we’re careful, we may be able to approach him unawares and observe him in combat.” 

Sephiroth inclined his head, as though considering it. “Possibly,” he allowed. “But remember, Caelum isn’t our primary focus.” 

“Jenova,” Angeal said grimly.

Cloud shuddered, and Kunsel leaned closer, pressing against his side in reassurance. 

Then Zack said, “What do you think we’re going to find when we find her? I mean, are we going to get all the way down to the bottom of this cave and there’s, I dunno, just a toe or something sitting there? Or a kidney? Or what?” 

Kunsel snorted again, and Angeal chuckled out loud. “I don’t think it quite works like that,” Angeal said. 

“Then what?” Zack said. “You guys have been saying that in Cloud’s timeline, it was a ‘piece’ of Jenova, right? So what piece?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Sephiroth said. 

“Why not?” Zack pressed. “It isn’t like a toe is much of a threat.” 

“Because it quite literally does not matter what shape any piece of Jenova wears at any given time,” Sephiroth explained. “The form Jenova wore when we saw it in Nibelheim, toes and all, isn’t its true body. From what I was able to gather from the research done by Professor Gast and stolen by Hojo, Jenova took that form out of convenience while interacting with the Ancients before it was imprisoned.” 

“Convenience?” Zack asked. “For what?” 

“Hunting,” Sephiroth said. 

“Like… for food?” Zack’s eyes had gotten very, very wide.

“Something like that,” Sephiroth said. “The manner by which Jenova both feeds itself and, for lack of a better term, reproduces, is to assimilate other life forms into itself on a cellular level.”

Zack cocked his head, looking for a moment like the puppy Genesis liked to refer to him as. “...Huh?” 

“It operates in a manner roughly analogous to a virus,” Sephiroth explained. “That is, it uses a host’s cellular structure to replicate itself until it eventually takes over the host organism completely.”

“Interesting,” Kunsel murmured. “If she’s some kind of decentralized, sapient viral entity, that would explain a lot.” 

Sephiroth nodded. “In his notes, Hojo described Jenova as a ‘distributed organism’. Any individual piece of it, down to the cellular level, has exactly the same intelligence and abilities as any other piece.”

“Can one of you spell that out in small words for those of us who aren’t geniuses?” Angeal asked dryly. 

“He means Jenova isn’t a person - or an animal - the way we know the terms,” Kunsel said. “She doesn’t have a single brain, or a central heart or nervous system.”

“Yes she did,” Zack protested. “We saw her heart - and her guts - back at that reactor.” 

“It’s just a form she wore to trick the Cetra,” Cloud said. He didn’t want to talk about this, but his whole body still itched with the need to get up and keep moving, and maybe talking would help distract him. “Distorted and mutated over thousands of years of being sealed.” 

“So what’s her true form, then?” Zack demanded. 

“An abomination,” Cloud said softly. All those times he and the others had fought her - the horrifying, eldritch forms she’d taken. “And if she’s not trying to have a body at all, she’s just… green goo.”

_—Kadaj plunging down through the skeleton of the destroyed ShinRa Tower, glowing ooze leaking between his fingers as he shoves Jenova’s remains into his chest—_

“Creepy,” Zack muttered, jarring Cloud out of the memory. 

“I’ll admit to a similar curiosity as the puppy,” Genesis spoke up. “What, exactly, do we expect a ‘piece’ of Jenova, goo or otherwise, to be capable of?” 

“Seriously,” Zack said. “Even if she can turn herself from a puddle of goo into some kind of freaky horror-terror-beast, if it’s not a big puddle, what can she do? We could just, y’know.” He mimed crushing something under his boot. 

“Exactly,” Genesis said, with a dramatic flourish of an arm as if casting a Firaga. “Her body burned just fine in the reactor, after all.” 

“Did you miss the part about how Jenova hunts?” Sephiroth asked dryly. “It segments into localized colonies of Jenova entities which seek out prey and shift into a shape they believe their chosen victims would welcome. If a colony is successful at coming into contact with its prey, it begins the process of assimilation. Once enough prey has been absorbed - or if there aren’t enough clusters of Jenova entities remaining to form sufficiently-sized colonies - it triggers the phenomenon Hojo referred to as ‘Reunion’. All Jenova entities, no matter how distant, are called back to a single point, where they recombine, re-synchronize, and prepare to hunt again.” 

“In small words,” Kunsel translated, “it means the puddle of goo will try to trick you into picking it up so it can absorb you and turn you into more goo.”

“Eeew,” Zack said again, but then frowned. “Wait. Don’t Sephiroth and Cloud both have Jenova cells in them? Wait - don’t _we_ have them?” His eyes went wide and he patted down his own body, as though afraid he’d turn into goo on the spot. “Why haven’t we been absorbed?” 

“You were made differently,” Cloud reminded him. 

Sephiroth nodded. “Ordinary SOLDIERs are infused with a combination of mako and an extremely small amount of inert Jenova cells. The inert cells cannot replicate or communicate with the rest of the Jenova entity, and do not absorb the host. They merely serve as a… glue, of sorts, to help the SOLDIER’s body properly incorporate the mako.”

“But Hojo did something different for you two,” Zack said.

A sharp flash of irritation and derision flickered through Cloud’s mind - Sephiroth’s emotions, the hatred he bore for the man who’d created him bubbling to the surface. Sephiroth said, “Hojo may have been a hack who stole most of his work from Professor Gast, but unfortunately, bonding humans with Jenova cells was the one area where he outdid the greater minds of his competition.” 

Angeal’s eyebrows went up, and Zack and Kunsel both rocked back at the venom in Sephiroth’s voice. Genesis, though, merely leaned forward thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. “Hence why Angeal and I suffered from degradation, but neither you nor Cloud do.” 

“Yes,” Sephiroth said. “Hollander’s attempts to bond Jenova cells to human tissue weren’t as successful as Hojo’s. With the help of extended mako treatments, Hojo managed to establish an equilibrium between our human bodies and the Jenova cells. Hollander’s attempt was… less durable. The balance in each of your bodies had likely been destabilizing for a long time, and your injuries were merely the tipping point for rapid Jenova takeover.” 

Angeal shuddered. “Can we stop talking about this?” 

“Sorry, Angeal,” Zack said, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. 

“Sorry,” Kunsel echoed. “But… it’s also important for us all to know the details of this stuff. Hojo and Hollander were awful people who did awful things, but we’re still dealing with their legacy.” 

That grim thought was enough to shut down any further conversation. It was also a reminder of what they’d come here to do, and Zack and Kunsel began to pack their supplies away, ending the rest. A minute later, the six of them headed out, down into the depths of the crater once more.


	33. Son of Calamity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Firsts find Noctis, and Cloud reaches the center of the Northern Crater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's start the new year with a bang!

The deeper they went underground, the warmer it became, until first Cloud, then Angeal, Zack, and Kunsel shed their heavy outer layers and packed them into their knapsacks. It was a relief to be out of the bulky winter jacket, and Cloud resettled First Tsurugi in its harness to make sure he had easy access to it. Noctis had done an admirable job of clearing out the monsters, but they still encountered a couple of wayward zolokalters and, once, a tonberry. Even the tonberry didn’t stand a chance against six First Class SOLDIERs, though, and they made swift progress through the caves. 

Cloud tried not to think about the last time he’d been in this crater, instead sticking close to Kunsel, Genesis, and Zack and focusing on the sensations of his own body. _His_ body - not a clone, not a puppet, not an artificial lifeform created in a lab by Hojo. Cloud was real, his memories were (mostly) real, and he wasn’t going to let himself be tricked by Jenova again. It helped, a little, that they weren’t following the same path he remembered; instead of climbing up toward the rim of the crater, they’d been descending steadily for hours. 

Around twelve hours in, some six hours after their break at the campsite, Genesis stopped abruptly. He and Angeal had taken turns leading, since Cloud refused to let himself be in front and Sephiroth likewise stayed well back, and now Genesis held up a hand to halt the rest of them. “Do you hear that?” he murmured.

A yell, somewhere up ahead: a battle cry. The squeal of something dying violently, the crack of a sword against ice.

“Noct,” Angeal said.

Genesis grinned mischievously. “Let’s see if we can spy on him.” 

Angeal rolled his eyes, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Zack. “C’mon, Angeal,” Zack said. “You’re as curious as the rest of us.” 

“I’m not, actually,” Angeal said. “I don’t need to spy on my friends.” 

“It’s not spying!” Zack protested, completely ignoring what Genesis had said a few seconds ago. “It’s just… _observing!”_

Listening to them bicker, Cloud almost missed the soft electric zapping noise - but then it came again, echoing up the icy tunnels. The same sound he’d heard in Rocket Town, and again in the Sector Eight slums, that he’d originally thought might be a coeurl. While there _were_ coeurls in parts of the Northern Crater, Cloud didn’t hear any of the beasts’ telltale yowling, and anyway the Sector Eight incident had proven the sound was tied to Noctis, not the big cats. 

Cloud eased forward, following Genesis, who had also abandoned Angeal and Zack to their arguing and begun to creep along the tunnel. Up ahead, the electric noise came again, once, twice, three times in quick succession, punctuated by sharp whip-cracks and the occasional shout or grunt of effort from Noctis. A skitter of claws and an eerie chittering suggested he was fighting a gang of stilva - not an easy solo fight even for someone of Noctis’s skill. The ice and stone of the tunnel walls made the sounds of combat echo strangely, but even so Cloud thought they were getting close - the fight was probably around the sharp bend in the tunnel he could see just ahead. Genesis was only a step or two away from the corner, easing close to peek around— 

Noctis gasped audibly, followed a second later by the wet snap of bone and a cry of pain.

“Noct!” Angeal shouted from behind Cloud. From up ahead came the heavy thud of a body hitting the icy ground, and another grunt of pain from Noctis. Cloud shoved Genesis aside and darted around the corner, Angeal on his heels. 

The tunnel opened onto a large room lit by the green glow of mako filtering up through the icy walls. Yellow light flashed wildly from a body lamp attached to Noctis, who was sprawled on the ground beneath the chitinous bulk of a stilva. The creature was making a valiant effort to skewer him with its massive needle-like claws, while Noctis blocked left-handed with his sword, his face white with pain. Three more stilva circled them, chittering and preparing to jump, while the bodies of several others lay in pieces around them. 

Cloud leaped, vaulting off the head of one of the circling stilva to soar above the one pinning Noctis. He landed on its back, First Tsurugi slamming through its carapace. Flipping the release on one of the side blades, he left the main assembly wedged into the stilva’s spine and used the side blade to take its head. Angeal skidded in as the creature collapsed, grabbing Noctis and rolling out of the way of the beast’s death throes. 

In the second it took for Cloud to wrench First Tsurugi free of the stilva’s carapace, Genesis and Sephiroth swept into the room. Genesis’s rapier burned a fiery hole through one of the remaining stilvas, while Masamune bisected the last two in a single stroke. 

Genesis yanked his sword free and glared at Sephiroth. “Those two were _mine_ ,” he said waspishly. 

“Is that why they were still alive?” Sephiroth answered with a smirk. 

Genesis had his mouth open to respond when he was interrupted by a yelp from Noctis. Angeal was helping him sit up, but Noctis had his right arm cradled close to his chest. He was wearing his purple Second Class uniform, his arms bare, and there was a nasty-looking lump in his forearm just above his bracer. “Broken?” Angeal asked him. 

Noctis hissed between his teeth. “Damn thing caught me when I wasn’t looking.” 

“Hold still,” Angeal said, and pulled out his Restore materia, keeping his other arm around Noctis’s shoulders to steady him. The green glow of the magic raced along Noctis’s forearm, smoothing the break and easing the bones back into place. Noctis watched wide-eyed, and when the magic faded, raised his arm and turned it back and forth, studying it. 

“That’s so cool,” he said. “I wish I could do that.” 

“You could get a Restore of your own,” Zack suggested. He and Kunsel had followed Genesis and Sephiroth into the room, swords drawn, but now they both put them away. 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Genesis said dryly. “We’ve seen what he does to elemental materia. I’d hate to see what might happen if he was to attempt a Cure spell.” 

Noctis looked up, seeming to notice the rest of them for the first time. His expression instantly turned sullen, his head tilting so his eyes were hidden behind his bangs. “Babysitting again?” he grumbled. “Do you all really need to show up every time I get a vaguely interesting mission?” 

“We’re not here for you,” Sephiroth said. His green eyes were darting around the room, clearly on the lookout for something. Cloud didn’t blame him; the back of his own neck itched, and though he’d snapped the side blade back into the main assembly, he hadn’t put away his sword yet. Something was watching them - more stilvas lying in wait, maybe.

He carefully did not think, _or Jenova_. 

“Then what are you here for?” Noctis asked. He pushed to his feet, wincing and rubbing the small of his back. Angeal rose with him, keeping a hand on his arm to steady him. 

“We have reason to believe one of Professor Hojo’s experiments may have survived and fled here,” Genesis said casually. 

Noctis’s eyes, half-hidden by his bangs, flicked to Cloud for just an instant. “And it’ll take all of you to catch it?” 

“Given the nature of Hojo’s research,” Sephiroth said, “we decided to err on the side of caution.” 

Another sideways glance at Cloud; Cloud glared back. He had no idea what Noctis might have heard about what had happened in Nibelheim last year, but this was _definitely_ not the time to discuss it. 

Thankfully, Noctis just shrugged and turned away. “Fine,” he muttered. He bent to pick up his sword where he’d dropped it on the ground when Angeal grabbed him, slinging it onto his back. Then he turned to scan the room, grey eyes intent in the bright glow of the flashlight he wore clipped to the front of his sword harness. 

“Looking for something?” Genesis asked. 

“Hmm?” Noctis said absently, then he seemed to process the question. “Nah, I just thought I saw…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind.” 

Abruptly Cloud had a thought. “You saw a woman,” he guessed, and knew he was right when Noctis’s eyes snapped to him. Cloud added, “Long dark hair, pale skin, long robes—”

He’d been expecting Noctis to deny it, so it caught him off guard when Noctis said eagerly, “You saw her?” 

Genesis’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. “Not in here, but the Turks have seen her on other missions of yours. You know her?” 

“ _Shiva_ ,” Noctis swore under his breath, and shook his head. “Yeah. She’s… a messenger. Worked for someone I used to know.”

“She was here?” Angeal asked. 

“I don’t know,” Noctis admitted. “I thought I saw her while I was fighting, but when I looked, that bug jumped me and broke my arm. Then you guys showed up.” 

“What would a messenger want with you here?” Genesis asked. “Besides the obvious, of course. This isn’t exactly an easy place to get to just to deliver a message.” 

The back of Cloud’s neck itched again and he found himself turning almost without meaning to, looking for whatever monster might be lurking. Or messenger. But the room was empty except for the seven of them, its icy walls gleaming in the dim light. 

“Hell if I know,” Noctis grumbled to Genesis. “She just… does that. But I don’t see her now. It was probably just a trick of the light.” 

“Perhaps,” Sephiroth allowed. “We should continue.”

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed. “At least you guys being here will make the rest of this go faster. The screaming was starting to get to me.” 

Halfway through slinging First Tsurugi onto his back, Cloud froze. The others just looked confused; Zack, sounding baffled, said, “What screaming?” 

Noctis blinked and waved a hand vaguely. “That?”

All of them held still for a moment, listening, but the only sounds were the constant creaks and groans of the ice that surrounded them. This far belowground, even the howling of wind past distant cave openings had long since faded. Noctis waved his hand again, as if indicating something, and when none of them reacted, said, “None of you hear it?” 

“No,” Angeal said carefully. “You hear screaming?”

Noctis nodded, though now he looked uneasy. “Yeah. Screaming and… and crying. At first I thought it was some local that got dragged down here by a monster, but I never found anything, and the volume never changed. I know wind can sometimes make caves ‘scream’, but this is…” He trailed off. “You guys really can’t hear it?” 

“It’s the cries of the Planet,” Cloud said. Remembering a kindly old man in an observatory in Cosmo Canyon, his descriptions of the birth and death of stars in the heavens. “What ShinRa is doing, draining the mako from the Planet… If they keep going much longer, they’ll kill the Planet. It’s crying out in pain.”

“More than that,” Sephiroth said quietly. “This crater is the spot where, thousands of years ago, a meteor struck the Planet.” He met Cloud’s eyes for a second; they both knew Jenova had arrived on that meteor. “According to Professor Gast,” Sephiroth continued, “the meteor deeply wounded the Planet, and it’s been concentrating Lifestream energy here ever since, in an attempt to heal that wound. It makes sense that its pain is louder here.” 

“Whoa,” Noctis said, his eyes going wide. “That’s… creepy.” 

“But most people can’t hear the cries of the Planet,” Cloud added. “Not without specialized instruments.” 

“Noctis,” Kunsel said, “are you a Cetra?” Noctis frowned at him in apparent confusion, so Kunsel clarified, “One of the Ancients, the lost people who used to live in harmony with the Planet.” 

“No,” Noctis said. He glanced between Kunsel, Cloud, and Angeal. “I don’t—”

“ _What the hell is that?!”_ Zack yelped. He drew his sword and leaped backward all in one motion, his eyes huge. 

The rest of them spun around, hands going to weapons as they scanned for whatever threat he’d spotted. Cloud didn’t see anything, though the sense of being watched intensified, and his hands tightened on First Tsurugi’s grip. 

“Oh, shit,” Kunsel breathed. Cloud turned again, following his gaze - and this time he saw it. 

An enormous eye had opened in the wall high overhead, glowing with an inner green light. It blinked twice, then closed again, vanishing into the ice. 

Cloud’s knees nearly gave out. He’d all but forgotten about the Weapons, since he’d stopped the sequence of events that led to Sephiroth blowing up the Northern Crater and freeing them. But he’d just said it himself, hadn’t he: ShinRa was destroying the Planet. The Weapons hadn’t woken solely because of Sephiroth, and Cloud hadn’t stopped ShinRa yet. 

“What _is_ that?” Genesis whispered. 

“It’s _enormous,_ ” Angeal added. Beside him, Noctis was staring in horror at the spot where the eye had been, and even Sephiroth looked nonplussed.

“It’s Weapon,” Cloud said. His voice sounded distant, as though someone else was speaking. “The Planet’s last line of defense. The Planet created them to protect itself against Jenova, but the Cetra sealed her first. So now Weapon is just sitting here. Waiting.”

“For _what?”_ Kunsel demanded. 

_For Jenova_ , Cloud thought. She was down there somewhere, in the center of the crater, waiting. He had to get to her. Had to destroy her before the Planet set the Weapons loose on humans. 

From somewhere very far away, he heard Kunsel call his name. Or maybe that was Tifa? Cloud shook his head. He needed to move. Needed to get to the center of the crater. Tifa was yelling about Sephiroth now - or was that Barret? He couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter, anyway. All that mattered was finding Jenova. 

Cold wind blasted his skin. He didn’t remember coming outside, but the cave had fallen away, and a brilliant aurora danced overhead. Pillars of rock stretched like reaching fingers to the sky, and a whirlwind of Lifestream energy blasted through narrow canyons that plunged even deeper into the Planet’s surface. He didn’t remember this place from the first time he’d been to the crater ( _didn’t he?_ ), but it still felt familiar, like coming home. 

He leaped through a momentary gap in the scouring winds, landed on a pillar on the far side, and kicked off again. Tifa and Barret would keep up, and they’d left the others behind to guard their backs. Cloud had to get to Sephiroth.

No. He had to get to _Jenova_.

His head ached. 

Someone shouted his name. 

Didn’t matter. He was so close. 

There. 

He remembered this cave: the heart of the meteor-wound in the Planet. Walls of materia on all sides. A web of roots stretching overhead, supporting an enormous crystal in its center. 

Jenova. 

No. 

_No._

The ground trembled beneath his feet, the roots creaking and snapping as the crystal descended. The Planet screamed in Cloud’s head, a desperate cry of terror. 

The crystal shattered. Black mist swirled around the pale figure at its heart, resolving into a familiar long coat, familiar silver hair, familiar green eyes. 

Cloud couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Sephiroth smiled, a knife-edge of despair in the green glow of the Lifestream. “It’s been a long time... Cloud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to [r3zuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/r3zuri/pseuds/r3zuri) for correctly guessing this plot twist [all the way back in August](https://fallintosanity.tumblr.com/post/625937283119529984/some-flipped-spoilers-aka-predictions-for)! When I saw that particular prediction, I had to go banshee-screech at my beta. XD You have _no_ idea how hard it was to figure out how to answer without giving anything away!


	34. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Firsts and Noctis meet a very familiar villain.

“It’s Weapon,” Cloud said. “The Planet’s last line of defense.” His voice was strange, and his gaze had focused somewhere far away. Angeal wondered uneasily what future-memories were going through his head. Cloud added, “The Planet created them to protect itself against Jenova, but the Cetra sealed her first. So now Weapon is just sitting here. Waiting.”

“For _what?”_ Kunsel demanded.

Overhead, the huge eye blinked open again, as though it knew they were talking about it. Angeal shuddered. He’d fought a lot of dangerous things during his career as a SOLDIER, but something about the sheer _size_ of the Weapon was terrifying, on a visceral and entirely instinctual level. 

“For the Planet to summon it, I’d imagine,” Sephiroth said, and Angeal knew him well enough to hear the unease in his voice. 

“Which it might do if—Cloud!” Kunsel yelped. Angeal turned to see Cloud walking away from them, toward an opening in the cave’s far wall. He didn’t react to Kunsel’s voice, and when Genesis made a grab for his arm he dodged without breaking stride. 

“Cloud!” Genesis hissed. “Snap out of it!” 

“Tranqs,” Kunsel said, fumbling at a pocket. “ _Now,_ Zack, Genesis—”

Zack was already moving, an injector with the needle exposed clenched in one hand. At the last second, Angeal realized what was going to happen; he lunged forward, arms outstretched, and when Cloud knocked Zack away with a backhanded blow, Angeal caught him before he could hit the wall. “Zack?” 

“Fine,” Zack grunted, though his face had gone white. “Cloud!” But Cloud was already gone, vanished through the opening. 

“Let him go,” Sephiroth murmured.

Angeal’s blood ran cold, and he whipped around to see Sephiroth striding across the cave toward the opening. “Damn it, not you, too,” he growled. 

“I’m fine,” Sephiroth said. “We’re here for Jenova. It’s… expedient to let Cloud lead.” Before any of them could protest, he, too, was gone.

“Sephiroth!” Zack called.

The name echoed against the icy walls. Sephiroth didn’t answer. 

Genesis met Angeal’s eyes, and for just a moment, let his worry show on his face. Angeal grimaced back, then Genesis smoothed his expression back to neutrality and turned to the others. “Leave your packs. This is now an emergency. Follow my orders, understand?” 

That last was directed primarily at Noctis, who nodded. “You’re in charge, got it.” 

The others were already shedding their packs, piling them in a corner of the cave. Angeal tossed his on the pile, then turned to Noct. “Where’s your pack?” 

“Uh,” Noctis said. His expression was more eloquent than his words; clearly he’d left it behind somewhere and didn’t remember where. 

“Never mind,” Angeal said. Genesis, Zack, and Kunsel had disappeared through the opening on the far side of the cave. “We’ll find it later. Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed, and they took off after the others. 

For being head and shoulders shorter than the other Firsts, Cloud could move damn fast when he wanted to, and Sephiroth wasn’t exactly meandering himself. By the time Angeal and Noctis caught up to Genesis, Zack, and Kunsel, they had all emerged into what appeared to be the central well of the crater. The ground was cracked and uneven underfoot, rumbling ominously, and raw Lifestream currents blasted in waves across the ground. A quarter-mile or so ahead, Angeal spotted Cloud vaulting through a gap in the winds. Sephiroth was only a few yards behind him. 

“Sephiroth!” Zack yelled desperately. But if the general heard him, he gave no sign; he paused only long enough to find another gap in the currents, and then he, too, vanished beyond them. 

“Dammit,” Angeal muttered. He and the others broke into a run, though from the corner of his eye he noticed that Noctis was wincing, his hands pressed to his ears even as he sprinted alongside them. “Noct?” 

“Screaming’s louder,” Noct ground out. “I’m fine.” The blue-green glow of the Lifestream, combined with the dancing, multicolored auroras, was doing strange things to his stormcloud eyes; they flickered almost pinkish in the unearthly light. 

Angeal and the others finally reached the spot where the ground fell away, a gaping slash in the Planet’s surface studded by lonely, wind-blasted pillars. Lifestream winds howled along the canyon, and the SOLDIERs vaulted from pillar to pillar in turns when the wind died down enough to be safe. Angeal stuck close to Noctis, but thankfully he seemed to have adjusted to whatever he was hearing; he wasn’t covering his ears anymore and he kept up with the Firsts easily. 

Finally they reached the other side of the canyon. The Lifestream winds still swirled behind them, but just ahead, a mound of what appeared to be solid mako swelled up at the very heart of the crater like a bruise. A narrow, jagged crack ran down one side, allowing passage to the interior of the mound. Cloud and Sephiroth were nowhere in sight. 

“Cloud!” Kunsel called, but Genesis held up his hand, signaling for quiet. Kunsel subsided, worry furrowing his brow.

Genesis came to a halt just outside the crack in the mound, raised hand now making the signal for caution. The others fell in accordingly, Angeal flanking Genesis on the other side of the crack, and Noctis, Zack, and Kunsel behind them. An ominous rumble shook the ground and the mako dome both, spraying sheets of icy dust over them all. 

Genesis drew his rapier, signaling with quick hand signs that he would lead the advance with Angeal behind him, and Zack would watch their backs. They nodded, then Genesis raised his sword and darted through the opening. Angeal took a breath and followed.

The interior of the mound was a large open space, a little bigger than the SOLDIER training room back at ShinRa HQ. Crystallized mako stretched upward on all sides, forming walls intermixed here and there with stone. Barely visible within the far wall was the outline of another massive Weapon eye, this one closed and dormant. High overhead, an incongruous web of bare, lifeless roots covered the ceiling beneath the mako dome. Cloud was frozen in the center of the space, staring upward in abject terror; Sephiroth stood nearby, likewise transfixed.

Angeal couldn’t blame them. Floating above them was another Sephiroth. 

Somewhere in the back of Angeal’s mind, he hadn’t ever quite believed Cloud’s story about being from the future, a future where Sephiroth went mad and tried to destroy the world. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Cloud, it was just that… that was impossible, right? Time travel, alternate futures, Sephiroth burning down an entire innocent village and summoning a Planet-destroying cataclysm. But now, staring at this alternate-Sephiroth as he drifted gently down from within the tangle of dead roots, Angeal could abruptly believe it.

This Sephiroth’s hair was unbound, drifting in a breeze that seemed to exist only for him. His skin was bloodless, almost waxen, and his pale lips were curled slightly at the corners in a vicious smirk. The bones of his face were slightly too sharp, his shoulders slightly too narrow, his eyes oddly vivid, and the subtle ornaments of his armor were missing; it was as though someone had painted a near-photorealistic image of Sephiroth but gotten all the smallest details wrong. 

As his feet came to rest on the ground, his smirk widened. His alien eyes shone with a cruel gleam as he said, “It’s been a long time... Cloud.” 

Cloud made a tiny noise of pure, animal terror. The sound seemed to snap Sephiroth - the real one, his hair in his mother’s ponytail and human blood flowing beneath his pale skin - out of his trance. He lunged forward, Masamune swinging in the precise, deadly attack that had torn through so many unprepared Wutai warriors. The fake Sephiroth was unarmed, yet he didn’t move, didn’t even try to dodge, just raised his hands in a familiar pose.

Metal rang against metal and the air itself shrieked as though crying out in pain. Another Masamune appeared in a shimmer of green light between Alter-Sephiroth’s hands, hilt in his left, blade braced against his right. He made a contemptuous sound— 

—then the real Sephiroth went flying across the room. He crashed into the far wall hard enough that the mako surface crumbled; behind it, the Weapon eye blinked open as if the impact had been felt by the massive creature trapped within the ice. Masamune fell from Sephiroth’s hand and he followed, body limp and unresponsive when he struck the ground. 

“Sephiroth!” Zack yelled in horror. He started to lunge for Sephiroth’s fallen form, but Kunsel grabbed his arm and held him in place. The commotion was enough to draw Alter-Sephiroth’s attention, though: he turned to them, lazily swinging his own Masamune back down to his side, the air humming with its passage.

His eyes, mako-bright and unblinking, flicked from Zack to Angeal, then to Genesis. “A fool,” he murmured. “A coward. And a traitor.”

“Traitor?!” Genesis demanded angrily. He stepped forward, and Angeal had to fight the urge to hold him back as Kunsel had caught Zack. They all knew none of them was a match for Cloud, and this alien, inhuman Sephiroth was the one Cloud had had to become so powerful to defeat. The real Sephiroth had just demonstrated, painfully, how dangerous it was to underestimate him. 

Thank Odin, Genesis stopped well outside Masamune’s reach. He folded his arms and scowled at Alter-Sephiroth. “I only see one traitor here, and that’s _you_.” 

Alter-Sephiroth raised his free hand, holding it out to Genesis in a mockery of an actor’s pose. Black smoke swirled in his palm, resolving into a pale white shape; Angeal’s stomach twisted when he recognized it.

A dumapple.

“ _My friend, your desire / Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess_ ,” Alter-Sephiroth said, in a perfect imitation of Genesis’s inflection. “I remember the Nibel Reactor. You called me ‘the greatest monster created by the Jenova Project’.” He tossed the dumapple to Genesis and his smirk widened again. “I should thank you. You showed me how to turn my back on humanity.” 

Genesis caught the dumapple and stared at it, then at Alter-Sephiroth, blue eyes wide. His mouth opened, then closed again as though words, for once, had deserted him. Fine - Angeal could draw fire for a moment, until Genesis recovered himself.

He took a few steps forward, and Alter-Sephiroth’s eyes flicked like a cat’s to track his movement. “How are you here?” Angeal demanded. “You’re from Cloud’s timeline. How could you have gotten here?” 

Alter-Sephiroth twisted, something silken and inhuman in the motion, to look at Cloud. “I have my puppet to thank for that,” he said, and _oh_ , Angeal knew now why Cloud had reacted so violently to the real Sephiroth calling him a puppet two years ago. There was something simultaneously contemptuous and possessive in Alter-Sephiroth’s voice, a caress in the word that sent shivers down Angeal’s spine - and it wasn’t even directed at him. 

Cloud snarled when Alter-Sephiroth turned to him, one hand reaching over his shoulder for the hilt of his sword, his gaze on Alter-Sephiroth as though pinned. “I am _not_ ,” he hissed, “a _puppet._ ” 

“No?” Alter-Sephiroth asked, oh so gently. “I told you, Cloud. You cannot forget me. As long as you remember me, we are bound together. I came here with you.” He spread his arms, the air wailing as his sword’s impossible edge sliced through it. “ _All_ of me. Even the parts I thought I’d lost. They weren’t gone - they were just dispersed within the Lifestream. Waiting… for your Reunion.” His arms fell back to his sides and he smiled at Cloud. “Your arrival here was the last piece I needed. _You_ brought me back... _Cloud_.” 

“ _No_ ,” Cloud spat. He drew his sword, though the blade trembled where he held it in front of him. “You’re dead. You’ve been dead for years.” His grip steadied, and he lifted First Tsurugi to an attack stance. “I’ll kill you again.”

Alter-Sephiroth’s smile turned predatory as he raised Masamune to match Cloud’s pose. Cloud took a step forward, his voice a growl. “I’ll kill you as many times as it takes.” 

“Cloud, no!” Zack yelled. He yanked against Kunsel’s hands on his arm; Kunsel lost his grip and Zack dashed forward, drawing his own sword. Angeal lunged, but his fingers closed on empty air. Zack darted in between Cloud and Alter-Sephiroth, the Buster Sword held out defensively. 

Alter-Sephiroth didn’t even look at him. His wrist flicked, severed air screamed around Masamune, and Zack cried out, the blow knocking him back. Angeal caught him, the impact slamming the breath from his lungs. He barely noticed, too busy checking that Zack’s heart still beat, that no blood dripped down his body. But the Buster Sword had done its job - it had protected him, thank Odin and Shiva and all the old gods. Zack gasped, unsteady on his feet but alive.

Cloud almost didn’t seem to have noticed the interruption, still stalking toward Alter-Sephiroth with murder in his eyes. Alter-Sephiroth raised Masamune again, feet sliding into a familiar ready stance.

Genesis shot a desperate glance at Angeal; Angeal stared back helplessly. He didn’t know what to say, or do, that could possibly have an effect. This was Cloud as he’d been when they’d first met him, with that terrifying, single-minded determination to kill Sephiroth - and this was the Sephiroth he’d killed so many times over. What could _any_ of them do? 

Then Noctis snapped, “That’s _enough!”_

His voice seemed to fill the whole room, ringing with authority, and - impossibly - both Cloud and Alter-Sephiroth actually glanced at him for a moment. Alter-Sephiroth said, sounding faintly incredulous, “You would dare stand against me? For the sake of an empty little puppet?” 

Noctis’s jaw set, his eyes going hard behind his bangs. “Get away from him.” 

Alter-Sephiroth’s smirk widened. “What will you do if I don’t?” 

Noctis raised his right hand, the eerie mako light of the cave glittering off a heavy black ring on one finger, and said flatly, “I’ll wipe you from the face of the earth.” 

“ _We_ ,” Genesis said, taking a step to stand beside Noctis.

“Yeah,” Zack agreed. He pushed away from Angeal, raising the Buster Sword again as he joined Genesis. “Cloud’s our friend.” Kunsel, his jaw set and his face pale beneath his helmet, followed. 

“I suppose I should have expected that,” Alter-Sephiroth murmured. He flicked a glance at Angeal. “And you? Will you turn against me once more?” 

His words sent a cold twist of guilt through Angeal’s stomach. Even though he knew Alter-Sephiroth meant whatever had happened between them in Cloud’s timeline, still Angeal couldn’t help but remember the way he had turned against his friends in this one. But that was a mistake he would only make once. 

Angeal drew his sword and stepped forward between Genesis and Noct. “You are a phantom,” he said, and was glad his voice came out steady. “I stand with my friends.” 

“Stay out of this,” Cloud snarled. “You can’t fight him.” 

“Wanna bet?” Noctis said. 

Alter-Sephiroth raised his own hand, pausing for a moment in a mirror of Noctis’s pose before flicking his fingers upward. Black smoke gathered around his hand, spiraling up toward the ceiling; at the same time, magic power began to swirl around Noctis. While Angeal didn’t recognize the spell, from the way the green mako tint in the air began to darken to a bloody red, it was a powerful one. A tiny part of Angeal’s mind not occupied with panicking wondered if Noctis’s bizarre reaction to materia would help them here, if it would be strong enough to turn the tide against Alter-Sephiroth— 

Alter-Sephiroth snapped his hand down. Cloud raised First Tsurugi and lunged. Genesis swung his rapier. Noct’s fingers closed into a fist— 

Power crackled and snapped along the walls, raced along Angeal’s skin, sparked between his teeth, and the entire room exploded in a hellblast of mako energy. Sound and light ripped through Angeal, shards of mako and ice and stone crumbling around him, the ground plunging away beneath his feet as the world itself seemed to shatter in a cataclysmic eruption— 

Then darkness, and silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if the spelling is supposed to be "dumapple" or "dumbapple", but TFA uses "dumapple", so in the tradition of using TFA spellings for things in this fic, we're going with that. 
> 
> Also, in case it's not obvious, I _really_ like the "singing" sound effect added to Masamune in Advent Children: Complete. XD


	35. Noctis Learns the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Alter-Sephiroth's attack, the Firsts and Noctis discuss secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work stress is piling back up, but on the other hand I figured out the plot hole I had been about to walk into. Still trying for regular-ish updates - thank you all for your patience! <3

“Angeal?” 

The voice was very far away. Or maybe Angeal’s ears just weren’t working right; they were ringing like a bomb had just gone off. 

A bomb… Wutai? No, it was too cold for Wutai, even the mountains. 

“Angeal!” 

Noctis’s voice. Noct hadn’t been there in Wutai, amidst the blood and the chaos and the explosions. Someone was shaking him - Noct was shaking him, and Angeal forced his eyes open. 

The air was choked with crystalline dust, but dim moonlight glittered through it, lighting the area in vague halos. Noct was kneeling over Angeal, worry in his eyes. 

The Northern Crater. Alter-Sephiroth. 

Angeal sat up so fast he almost knocked heads with Noctis. “What happened?” 

“Thank the Stars,” Noctis muttered under his breath, then, louder: “Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” Angeal said automatically, and tried to look around, then winced as what felt like a nasty lump on the side of his head throbbed with the movement. “Where’s…” He hesitated, not quite sure how to say it. “The other…” 

“The freaky daemon-style Sephiroth clone?” Noctis asked. “No idea. Not here, I think.” 

Angeal tried to get his feet under him. “We need to—” The world lurched and Noctis caught him, then eased him back to the ground. 

“ _You_ need to sit still,” Noct said pointedly. “I think you’re concussed.” 

“It’s nothing a Cura won’t take care of,” Angeal protested. He reached for his materia, and the world swam for a few unpleasant seconds again as the curative magic tried to knock him out while it dealt with his concussion. Noctis hooked an arm around his shoulders and Angeal leaned gratefully against his side until the worst of it had passed. 

When he could think clearly again, Angeal sat up and looked around for the others. Zack lay next to him, just stirring to consciousness. Behind him, Sephiroth - the real one with his hair in a ponytail - sat dazed, holding his head in one hand. A kaleidoscope of massive bruises, already swollen purple-black, marred half his face and peeked out beneath the open front of his jacket from where Alter-Sephiroth had slammed him into the wall. 

On Angeal’s other side, past Noctis, Genesis was crawling over to Cloud, who knelt in an ungainly tangle of limbs, sword in hand and a blank, dead-eyed expression on his face. (Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and Angeal shoved _that_ eerie thought out of his head.) Kunsel was next to Cloud and, like, Zack, just blinking awake. The terrifying Alter-Sephiroth was nowhere in sight.

Angeal tried to connect the scene to his last memory of the weird mako-room they’d been in when everything had exploded, but couldn’t make the pieces fit. He remembered the floor breaking away and the ceiling caving in as Alter-Sephiroth’s smoky magic unleashed the power in the cave’s materia walls. But now there was a strange, uneven black surface beneath them, its far edges curving up into a series of slender, sharp black stalagmites. The icy northern wind gusted above and through them, blowing crystalline mako dust and snowflakes in a wild dance. The nighttime sky, dotted with stars, stretched like a blanket overhead, except for something huge and dark that blotted out one corner— 

Then Angeal’s brain processed the shape of the thing they were sitting on, the shape of the thing overhead, and he almost fell over in horror. Hands. They were sitting in a pair of enormous clawed hands, and a dragon’s head loomed above them, red-scaled and horned like some of the early depictions of Bahamut. 

“What the _hell—?!_ ” he yelped. 

The others looked up, and exclaimed in turn as they had the same realization as Angeal - all except Cloud, who didn’t move at all, and Noctis, who just glanced up and back down with a shrug. “It was watching us,” he said, as if that explained anything. “I guess it wanted to help.” 

Genesis’s jaw dropped. “Noctis Lucis Caelum, do _not_ tell me that we are currently being held by one of the Weapons.” 

Amusement flickered in Noct’s eyes. “Okay.” 

Genesis stared at him. So did Zack and Kunsel. It was Sephiroth who finally spoke up, his voice hoarse: “We are going to have a _talk_ about that.” 

Any sane SOLDIER would have been quaking in their boots at hearing that tone from the Silver General. Noctis looked bored, folding his arms and leveling a flat glare at Sephiroth from under his bangs. “A talk about what? About some weird giant benevolent monster protecting us from that creepy daemon-you? Or about that creepy daemon-you, who if you’ve forgotten was trying to _kill us?_ ” 

Sephiroth didn’t quite flinch, but Angeal knew him well enough to catch the slight narrowing of his eyes, the way his mouth tightened and his left hand clenched into a fist at his side. Except… He’d seen Sephiroth angry, and this wasn’t it. Not quite. This was… 

This was Sephiroth _terrified._

Not of Noctis, of course; Noct was a SOLDIER Second. But the reminder of his alternate-timeline self, the madness in the man’s eyes, had clearly shaken Sephiroth to his core. Angeal shifted into Noctis’s line of sight, reaching up to put a hand on his arm. “Noct,” he said quietly. 

Noct glanced down at Angeal. Something in the line of his jaw, the hard gleam in his eye, made him look frighteningly like Rufus ShinRa for a moment: utterly powerful, utterly self-assured. Then he sighed and dropped down to a cross-legged sit next to Angeal, wincing and rubbing at the scar on his back as he settled. “I guess that was the Hojo experiment you said you came here to find, huh?” 

“Yes,” Angeal agreed. He turned to Sephiroth. “Hold still.” Sephiroth scowled - he was almost never on the receiving end of curative magic - but let Angeal cast a Curaga. The hideous bruises along Sephiroth’s face and side slowly faded, though his scowl didn’t. 

“Did anyone see what happened to him?” Genesis asked. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that that little cave-in was enough to put him out of our misery.” 

Sephiroth shook his head. “He’s gone. I came to just as the cave collapsed, and I saw…” He hesitated, swallowed. “He… he flew away.” His green eyes caught Angeal’s for a moment, just long enough for Angeal to realize what he meant. Sephiroth had seen Angeal’s own wing, a year ago in Hollander’s lab in Banora. 

Genesis stared at them both, apparently having realized the same thing. He traded a horrified look with Angeal, then said to Sephiroth, “You said you wouldn’t degrade.”

“That _creature_ ,” Sephiroth hissed, “was _not_ me.” 

“Then what in Shiva’s frozen hell was it?” Noctis demanded. 

“Silence,” Sephiroth snapped. 

Noctis’s chin lifted, regal authority in every line of his body, and he opened his mouth - but at the last second, he snapped it closed again and lowered his head so that his mutinous glare was hidden behind his bangs. 

“But… why would he leave?” Zack asked. “The other—other Sephiroth. Not-Sephiroth,” he added hurriedly, with a guilty glance at Sephiroth. “I mean, we all know none of us is a match for Cloud, so wouldn’t he have been able to wipe the floor with us?”

“In case you didn’t notice,” Kunsel said dryly from where he sat with an arm around Cloud’s shoulders, “he _did_ wipe the floor with us. He blew up the cave and dropped the entire crater on our heads. If the Weapon hadn’t caught us, we’d be buried under a thousand tons of rock at the center of the Planet.” 

“ _My friend, do you fly away now? / To a world that abhors you and I?_ ” Genesis murmured, mostly to himself. To Cloud, he added, “What was that about, with the dumapple? He said something about the Nibel Reactor.” 

Cloud didn’t respond. He hadn’t so much as blinked the whole time, his blue eyes staring wide and empty into space, his whole body trembling. 

“Cloud?” Genesis prodded. He leaned closer, gently touching Cloud’s chin with his fingertips, but Cloud didn’t respond.

“Cloud is not…” Sephiroth started, then trailed off and shook his head. “Give him time.” 

Genesis threw a helpless look over at Angeal, lips pressed together in a thin line of worry and frustration. Angeal grimaced back. Too much had happened all at once; he didn’t even know where to begin.

“Can we go back to the daemon-you?” Noctis asked. He waved a hand at Sephiroth. “Or, not-you if you want. Are you… I mean, are there others out there? More Sephiroth clones?” 

“Not a clone,” Cloud ground out. His eyes finally focused, glaring at Noctis with a desperate fury hot enough that Genesis, still kneeling close, flinched back. “I’m _not!_ ” 

Noctis’s eyebrows went up, and he raised both hands. “Okay,” he said, in a gentle, soothing tone as though he was talking to a panicked chocobo. “Okay.” 

Kunsel held Cloud a little tighter, rubbing his arm with the hand he had wrapped around Cloud’s shoulders, his other hand on Cloud’s leg. Gradually Cloud subsided, his gaze slipping out of focus again. Kunsel said quietly to Noctis, “It’s… complicated. But no, there aren’t any more.” 

Noctis frowned at all of them. “Why don’t you start at the beginning,” he said. His voice was polite enough, but it was clear he wasn’t asking.

“Shouldn’t we get out of here, first?” Zack pointed out. “I’m not trying to say we won’t tell you,” he added hurriedly when Noctis’s stormcloud eyes narrowed. “I just…” He gestured up at the looming shadow of the dragon’s head above them. “That’s a _Weapon_ holding us. Is it safe here?” 

“It’s safer here than anywhere else we could discuss it,” Sephiroth said, his tone reluctant. “We’ll simply need to be quick about it.” He met Noctis’s eyes. “I would prefer you not be involved at all, but at this point, you’ve seen too much.” 

Noctis’s expression very clearly said _no, really_ for a moment before he smoothed it out again, one hand moving in a subtle but imperious motion for Sephiroth to continue. 

“To be clear,” Sephiroth said, “nothing we tell you today is to be repeated to _anyone_. Not Director Lazard, not Rufus ShinRa, not anyone except those of us here right now. Understood?” 

“Understood,” Noctis said solemnly.

“Good.” Sephiroth nodded once. “In short, Cloud is a time-traveler from an apocalyptic alternate future.”

Noctis’s eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth before visibly reconsidering whatever he’d been about to say. Instead, he glanced at Angeal as if to say _are you kidding me?_ Angeal just nodded; he knew how insane it sounded, but the appearance of Alter-Sephiroth had proven it was true. 

Sephiroth kept talking, starting with a brief explanation of the true nature of Jenova, as well as Gast, Hollander, and Hojo’s work with her cells, before laying out Cloud’s timeline with occasional interjections from Kunsel: The failure of the SOLDIER experiment, leading to Genesis and Angeal’s deaths by degradation and the alternate Sephiroth’s downfall. His rebirth as a monster following in the Calamity’s footsteps, and his plan to destroy the Planet. What Hojo did to Cloud, and his accidental success at creating a true “perfect” SOLDIER. How Cloud stopped Meteor and put down the Son of Calamity, presumably for good. 

When he’d finished, Noctis just sat there for a minute or two, stormcloud eyes wide. Angeal said, “So now you know the truth.”

Noctis nodded. “It explains a lot.” He met Angeal’s eyes, and Angeal knew Noctis was thinking about their conversation weeks ago in the Gold Saucer, when Angeal had told him about his own degradation. 

“So…” Zack said. “What do we do now?” 

“An excellent question,” Genesis mused. “Calamity Sephiroth might have flown off for now, but I can’t imagine we won’t see him again, and soon.” 

“Calamity Sephiroth, really?” Angeal said dryly. 

“What?” Genesis protested. “It’s poetic.” 

“We can discuss naming conventions later,” Sephiroth cut in. “Now that Caelum understands the situation, we need to get out of here.” 

“What if Calamity Sephiroth comes back, though?” Zack asked. “Like Genesis said, what if he’s waiting somewhere nearby to see if we survived, and attacks us when we try to leave?”

“He isn’t,” Sephiroth said. 

“How do you know?” Zack demanded. “If he wants to make sure we’re dead, now’s a good time to do it, when we’re all in rough shape and don’t have a lot of room to fight. Especially if he can fly and we can’t.” 

Sephiroth glanced up at the starry sky overhead, his mouth tightening. “I am unable to sense his presence any longer.” He shot a sideways glance at Cloud; Cloud didn’t respond, and after a moment, Sephiroth continued, “In any case, whether or not this, ah, other me is waiting for us is irrelevant. We cannot stay here forever.” 

“True,” Angeal admitted. “What’s your plan?” 

“Does anyone still have a radio?” Sephiroth asked the group at large. “We’ll call the choppers to us.”

Angeal reached for his pack and belatedly remembered they’d all left their packs behind somewhere in the caves, which meant their gear was likely buried at the bottom of the brand-new well. Thank Odin, Noctis dug in his pockets for a moment, then pulled out his radio and held it up.

Sephiroth took it from him and made the call. The pilots sounded shaken - apparently the crater explosion had looked pretty dramatic from the outside - but promised they’d be there in ten minutes. 

Finally Sephiroth cut the comm and passed the radio back to Noctis. “While we wait,” he said, his voice level, “it’s your turn to explain yourself.” 

Noctis scowled, ducking his head so his bangs hid his eyes. “What?”

“Earlier, in the caves,” Sephiroth said, “you told us you heard screaming. The cries of the Planet. And you’re remarkably unfazed by…” He gestured up at the Weapon looming over them. “Almost as though it was _you_ who influenced it.” His green eyes narrowed. “If you are capable of controlling these Weapons - or even simply _communicating_ with them—”

“I’m not,” Noctis said, his voice clipped. “I think…” He paused, mouth twisting in frustration, though it seemed to be more at an inability to find the right words than at the interrogation itself. “I can sort of sense them, I think, like… if someone really big was standing right behind me and looking over my shoulder?”

“I mean, I’d expect that,” Zack said, with a glance up at the Weapon. “It kind of _is_ standing right behind you looking over your shoulder.” 

“I think he meant metaphorically,” Angeal said, and couldn’t quite hide a fond smile. 

“Or perhaps _metaphysically_ ,” Genesis corrected. 

“Whatever,” Noctis said, and shrugged. “If they _are_ talking, they aren’t saying anything I can make out.” 

“You said it wanted to help,” Genesis pointed out. “Just a few minutes ago. You seemed to understand _that_ well enough.” 

“Yeah,” Noctis said, his voice dry, and made a gesture that encompassed the hands holding them, the massive head looming above. “I figured that part was obvious.” 

“Fine,” Genesis said. “Then tell us this: what materia were you about to use? Right before Calamity Sephiroth blew everything up. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

Noctis stared at him for a couple of seconds, his expression oddly unreadable. Finally he said, “That was my Thunder materia.” 

“Impossible,” Genesis scoffed. “I know what a Thunder spell feels like, and that _certainly_ wasn’t one.” 

“Well, it was.” 

“If that was a Thunder spell,” Genesis said, “I will eat my rapier.” 

“You want ketchup to go with it?” Noct rolled his eyes, though it wasn’t quite enough to hide the sullen, angry set to his jaw. “You’re always bitching at me that I don’t do magic right anyway.”

“Back off, Genesis,” Angeal warned. Genesis glared at him, but Angeal glared right back. They all knew Noctis was hiding something, and the frustration on his face was a clear indicator that pushing him on it right now would only make him less willing to talk.

Thankfully, Zack jumped in, with his own pointed look at Genesis: “Maybe it was distorted by all the materia in there. The walls were basically made of the stuff.” 

“Quite a stretch,” Genesis said. “I’ve never heard of such an effect.”

“You’ve never been in a room made of materia, either,” Zack pointed out reasonably.

“Are you sure you’re not an Ancient?” Kunsel asked Noctis. “They’re supposed to be able to do weird things with materia.” 

“Pretty sure,” Noctis said, then paused and frowned. “Uh. How would I know?” 

Kunsel glanced down at Cloud, but Cloud didn’t seem to be paying attention, his gaze still unfocused and his body trembling. Sighing, Kunsel said to Noctis, “Maybe there’s a blood test or something?” 

Noctis snorted. “So, if I’m an Ancient, would that explain the screaming and stuff?”

“The Ancients were known for being able to communicate with the Planet, among other things,” Sephiroth said. “It’s certainly the most logical explanation for your… unusual abilities.” 

“Maybe that’s it, then,” Noctis said. “I’m an Ancient.” 

“We’ll explore it further when we return to headquarters,” Sephiroth said. He looked up, green eyes scanning the sky; after a moment, Angeal heard what had caught his attention: the steady _whup-whup-whup_ of helicopter blades. “The helicopters are almost here. Remember, everything we discussed here is highly confidential. You cannot tell _anyone_.”

“Especially not anyone at ShinRa,” Kunsel added. “If they knew…” He shuddered.

“Swear it,” Genesis said to Noctis. “Swear on whatever you hold dear that you won’t speak a word of this to anyone other than the six of us.” 

Noctis studied him for a moment, then glanced down at Cloud. When he looked back up, his expression was solemn, and he placed a fist over his heart. “I swear on my ancestors’ tombs that I’ll keep your secret.” 

“Good,” Genesis said. The choppers were visible now, circling the massive draconic Weapon warily; Genesis deliberately turned away from Noctis and waved at the pilots. “Then let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to [r3zuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/r3zuri/pseuds/r3zuri) for [predicting the Weapon waking up](https://fallintosanity.tumblr.com/post/640954111723995136/nocts-ring-powers-arent-known-for-causing) (are you reading my mind???)!


	36. Lazard's Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew returns to Midgar.

Angeal ended up falling asleep on the helicopter, out of sheer exhaustion if not relaxation. Twelve-plus hours of hiking through the frozen depths of the Northern Crater, plus the encounter with the terrifying alternate-timeline Sephiroth, had worn him out, and honestly he figured he’d need the sleep for whenever the Calamity decided to rear his head again. Sephiroth and Noctis, in the chopper with him, were likewise asleep the handful of times Angeal jolted awake long enough to notice. He could only hope that Genesis, Cloud, and the others in the second helicopter were also getting some rest. 

It was just before dawn on Sunday morning when the choppers finally landed at ShinRa headquarters. Despite the early hour, Lazard was waiting for them on the helipad, flipping through a clipboarded sheaf of paper. He looked up when the Firsts climbed out, and Angeal saw the flicker of relief in his blue eyes when Noctis climbed out of the chopper behind Sephiroth. The relief turned to worry, though, when Kunsel and Genesis had to help Cloud out of the other helicopter. 

Cloud looked like he hadn’t slept at all the whole fourteen-hour flight. Dark circles hung like bruises beneath his eyes, and his skin was a sickly shade of grey. He leaned on Kunsel once his feet were on the ground, his gaze empty. It wasn’t all that different than how he’d looked when they’d boarded, just… worse. Genesis glanced at Lazard and grimaced, then signaled to Zack to help Kunsel get Cloud inside. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Lazard demanded. 

“He got sick,” Kunsel said calmly. “We ran into a nasty tonberry variant and it did a number on him. He just needs to rest for a bit, he’ll be okay tomorrow.” 

Angeal kept his expression carefully blank. As explanations went, a particularly vicious tonberry wasn’t _quite_ outside the realm of believable. And as long as it kept Lazard from asking the wrong questions, it didn’t matter. 

Lazard’s mouth tightened, but all he said was, “Fine. Get him inside. I know he doesn’t like doctors, but if there’s anything we can do for him…” 

“We’ll let you know, promise,” Zack said. “We got him, Director.” 

Lazard nodded, and they all watched Zack and Kunsel steer Cloud across the helipad and into the building. Once they were inside, though, Lazard’s expression hardened and he turned to Sephiroth with a scowl. “You couldn’t have warned me that this leftover experiment of Hojo’s was the size of a _mountain?!”_ he snapped. 

Right - they’d told Lazard that they were looking for a possible experiment of Hojo’s. Apparently Lazard had already heard about the half-freed Weapon and assumed it was Hojo’s creation. Sephiroth met his gaze levelly. “We were not aware, ourselves.” 

Lazard shook his head, holding up the clipboard so they could see a printed photograph of the Northern Crater. From the angle, it had been taken by one of the helicopter pilots while they were incoming to pick up the SOLDIERs. It showed a bird’s-eye view of the well of the crater - or what was left of it after the whole thing had blown up. 

Two days ago, the center of the Northern Crater had been a wide, mostly flat space, blanketed in snow and with massive canyons cutting like claw marks through the ground. Now, the photo showed that most of the ground had fallen away, leaving a deep, hungry well plunging into lightless depths. The Weapon that had held them after the explosion was embedded in one wall of the well, only its arms, upper torso, and head exposed. There was a suspiciously even, blue-tinted surface running through one of the other walls; Angeal had the unpleasant feeling it was another Weapon. They’d seen a second eye in the cave where they’d found Noctis, after all. 

Lazard gave them all a minute to take in the picture, then shook the clipboard pointedly. “What I want to know is, how could Hojo have created something like this without _someone_ noticing? It’s got to be at least four or five hundred feet tall!” 

“I don’t believe he created them,” Sephiroth said. “Based on his notes, and the work he stole from Professor Gast, we suspect he discovered them, instead.” 

Lazard stared at him. “Discovered. As in, that thing had already been sitting there?” Then he paused, eyes narrowing. “You said _them._ There are more than one?” 

“We saw signs of at least one other deeper inside the crater,” Genesis said.

“Unbelievable,” Lazard muttered. He pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “General, I expect a full report ASAP.” 

“Understood,” Sephiroth said. “Commander Rhapsodos will provide it by end of day.” 

Genesis visibly bristled, then just as visibly restrained himself, and said with only a trace of sarcasm, “Yes, sir.” 

Lazard looked between the two of them. Sephiroth looked like his normal self again, with no sign of the injuries his evil twin had inflicted, and Genesis was projecting his usual haughty arrogance. Angeal didn’t think Lazard knew either of them well enough to recognize the strain around Sephiroth’s eyes, the clench of Genesis’s jaw. Still, Sephiroth wasn’t normally one to shirk paperwork, and especially not to Genesis of all people, who thought paperwork was beneath the Hero of Wutai and was known for turning in late, incomplete, or coffee-stained reports. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” Lazard asked them. 

“Nothing,” Sephiroth said. “It was merely a long and tiring trip.” 

“I can see that,” Lazard said dryly, with a glance toward the door where Cloud had vanished. He sighed and resettled his glasses. “Well, get some rest today if you can. The gala is tomorrow and we need you all presentable.” 

Angeal traded a grimace with Genesis, and Sephiroth blinked a couple of times. Lazard looked between them and sighed again. “Don’t tell me you’d forgotten.” 

“With all due respect, Director,” Angeal said, “discovering a mountain-sized Weapon was a little distracting.” 

“Well, I’m reminding you,” Lazard said. “Speaking of which, Sergeant Caelum.” 

Noctis, who had been edging behind the Firsts toward the door, froze. 

“The Vice President wanted you to call him as soon as you got back,” Lazard said. 

“I know,” Noctis said, and held up his PHS. “I got his messages. But he’s probably still asleep.”

“He made clear that you were to call _as soon as_ you got back,” Lazard repeated firmly. “He knew your schedule.”

Noct shrugged and headed for the door into the tower, already flipping open his PHS and dialing. 

Lazard watched him go, then glanced around at the rest of them. He looked exhausted; Angeal couldn’t help but wonder if he’d slept at all the whole time they’d been gone. Pushing his glasses up, Lazard said, “The rest of you, dismissed. Get some sleep. The gala was already going to be a headache, and after that… I suspect this _thing_ you’ve found is going to be nightmare.” 

Angeal very carefully did not comment. Lazard was right, but not in the way he thought. Weapon wasn’t a threat - not unless or until the Planet activated them, whatever that meant. It was the other Sephiroth, the one Genesis had dubbed the Calamity, that they had to worry about. 

But he was in the wind, and there was nothing they could do about it. 

* * *

Angeal had slept on the chopper, and he was buzzing with nervous energy besides, so Lazard’s order to rest wasn't happening any time soon. Apparently the same was true for Sephiroth; Angeal had barely stepped through the door into his apartment when his PHS beeped with a message from the general: _Meet in my office at 11._

Genesis, Zack, and - surprisingly - Noctis were all included on the message, which meant it was almost certainly a strategy session for dealing with Calamity Sephiroth. It was still several hours until the meeting, so Angeal used the time to shower and change into clean clothes. Then he ruined both by going straight to the Training Room to burn through the nervous energy with the most intense battles the simulations could offer. He didn’t stop until his arms were so tired he could barely lift his sword, until his legs felt like jelly and his breath stabbed through his lungs with every gasp. 

He limped up to his apartment, showered and changed again, and headed back down to the SOLDIER floor. There was still half an hour before Sephiroth’s meeting, so Angeal cut through the Equipment Room, intending to swing by the cafeteria to grab something to eat - but to his surprise, he found Noctis there trading in his purple Second Class gear and getting neatly-packed First Class blacks in exchange. 

Noctis didn’t notice Angeal until he turned away from the quartermaster’s window, arms full of new gear. Angeal raised a hand in greeting. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Noctis answered. He started to wave back, but his pile of gear wobbled and he had to quickly adjust his grip to stabilize it. 

“Need a hand?” Angeal asked. 

“If you’re offering,” Noctis said. Angeal grabbed the top few pieces off the pile and tucked them under his arm, trailing after Noct as he headed for the elevators.

“Were you looking for me?” Noctis asked as they walked. “I thought I had enough time for a shower before that meeting.” 

Angeal shook his head. “You do. I was heading for breakfast.” 

“Food,” Noctis moaned with exaggerated desire. They’d reached the elevators, and he elbowed the call button, then wiggled his fingers in a _gimme_ motion at the packs Angeal held. “Go eat, I’ve got this.” 

“It’s fine,” Angeal said, amused, and followed Noctis into the elevator when the doors slid open. “We can eat after the meeting.” 

“I’d be down,” Noctis said. “Cafeteria or real food?” 

Angeal couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come on, the cafeteria isn’t _that_ bad.” 

“Excuse me for having _standards_ ,” Noct said with a grin. “If you do want real food, I know a good noodle joint in Sector Seven.”

“Sure,” Angeal agreed. But the banter felt strange, strained, with the looming specter of Calamity Sephiroth hanging over their heads, and they both fell silent as the elevator carried them to the barracks.

They reached Noctis’s bunk, and Angeal sat on the bed and checked his PHS while Noctis showered. Noctis was still sharing a room with one of the Thirds, probably due to how quickly he’d been promoted through the ranks - usually it took months for ShinRa to get the paperwork for things like that pushed through, and Noctis had made First faster than anyone except Cloud. The shared room was probably why he seemed to have no qualms about changing in front of Angeal, though it meant Angeal had to make an effort not to stare at the massive scar cutting across Noct’s lower back. Somehow it looked even more garish and brutal in the harsh white light of ShinRa’s barracks than it had in the dim mood lighting of the Gold Saucer’s hotel.

Still, seeing the scar reminded Angeal of something. As Noctis got dressed, Angeal said, “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

Noct paused in the middle of shaking out his new uniform shirt. His tone was carefully neutral when he said, “You can ask.” 

Angeal nodded at the scar. “Back at the Gold Saucer. You said that injury damaged your ability to use materia. Is that why Genesis sensed… whatever it was, in the Crater?” 

Noct huffed out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, and glanced up in the way people did when talking about the entity that was the ShinRa Electric Power Company. “Not exactly,” he said. “But… just like Cloud and Sephiroth don’t like to talk about parts of their past, I don’t like to talk about mine.” 

Message received, loud and clear: he meant that whatever his secret was, he didn’t want ShinRa discovering it. Angeal couldn’t blame him, either: they’d all learned the hard way just what ShinRa was capable of. “I understand,” Angeal said quietly. 

Noctis nodded, and finished getting dressed in silence. When he was done, he went over to check himself in the room’s little mirror, running his hand through his hair to settle his spikes and giving his reflection a satisfied nod. 

Angeal looked him up and down as he turned around. “Looks good,” he said, and was surprised by how true it was. It wasn’t just a compliment for Noctis making First - the man genuinely looked more comfortable in the all-black uniform than he had in a Second’s purple or a Third’s blue. Then again, considering that the few times Angeal had seen him in civilian clothes they’d been all black, maybe that wasn’t surprising. 

“Feels good.” Noctis flashed him a grin and headed for the door. “Let’s go.”


End file.
